


promise me you won't regret me (like the tattoos on my skin)

by zouee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Stripper Zayn, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zouee/pseuds/zouee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it seems like pain and regret are your best friends / cause everything you do leads to them / but baby i could be your best friend / and baby, i could fuck you right</p><p>the one where zayn's a stripper who swings both ways, louis' straight (or so he thinks), and harry's the gay best friend who wants to party. all. the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lonely Star

 

“‘Bout time you woke.”

With a sharp pull, a bright light shines through the window. The rays coming down directly into Louis’ eyelids, making him squint and groan.

“C’mon, get up.”

Harry’s at the edge of the bed now, and Louis opens his eyes slightly only to see him stare back at Louis with the look that only appears on Harry’s face during the weekend.

He shuts his eyes again and rolls over, knowing exactly what Harry’s going to ask next.

“No.” He grunts before either of them can say anything else.

Harry lets out a small groan in response, but they both know he’s not going to give up that easily. “Louis, please!”

“Go away.”

“Just this once! Please, please, please?” After a few seconds of no answer, Louis can feel Harry lie down next to him and poke his side, “Looouuuis,” he sings, “please?”

Louis doesn’t know what time it is, or if it’s even the weekend yet, and his mind’s fuzzy and his head hurts and his body is craving sleep. But it’s daylight and Harry’s here, which might mean that for once Harry’s begging him to do something else other than clubbing.

“What do you want?”

Harry almost cries with joy when Louis responds.

“Okay, well.” He clears his throat and Louis already knows that it’s going to be another crazy adventure with Harry Styles, “I was thinking that maybe we could go out for lunch? Then afterwards we could go to this music festival just down the road? It’ll be so fun I promise!”

Louis considers this, still refusing to open his eyes. “No clubs?”

Louis only then opens his eyes to see Harry’s expression, and it’s just what he imagined. Harry’s biting his fingernails, gazing down at Louis with pleading eyes.

He shakes his head, “no clubs!”

Louis sits up, and with a stretch he’s reminded straight away why he was asleep as he sees his desk full of homework across from his bed. He only got through probably a quarter of it last night, hence the tiredness. But there’s still a whole other pile to go.

He gestures towards it weakly, “I can’t.”

“Fuck, Louis.” Harry stands, annoyed. He paces in front of him, blocking the view from his work, “you need some fun, man! You’ve been crouched at that desk all year! C’mon, it’s not gonna bite you if you don’t do it straight away.”

Louis looks up at him and pouts, “It might.”

Harry scoffs, and crosses his arms. “Come out with me. Just this once. Then you can go back to your stupid homework for the rest of your life.”

Louis has to laugh at that, because he knows how hard Harry’s tried to get him out and about. But the thing is, he physically can’t afford to have a social life when the only things captivating his world are those books and his lectures.

But then again, seeing Harry annoyed and begging is also so tempting.

“Okay.”

-

They drive into town in Harry’s car. This might be his 3rd one, Louis thinks. Or his 4th… He’s not really sure, since Harry’s gone from one car to the next so flippantly and carelessly. It must be so nice being rich.

They’re on their way to get to a corner store that’s placed in the back streets of main road. And suddenly, what used to be blue skies and formal pedestrians and expensive shops, is now smoky air, trashy clothes and dark buildings.

And Louis wishes he never left his bed.

“Harry,” he begins cautiously, suddenly avoiding eye contact with a suspicious man who winked at him, “where are you taking me?”

Louis is pressed so far up against his seat he’s sure he could sink into it at any second. But Harry looks at him, shakes his head with a smile, and continues driving.

The small deserted road is right in the middle of what looks like a crime scene. There’s dirty looking people just lying or sitting there, either drinking or sleeping… Or just staring. Louis feels a cold shiver run down his spine.

“How are you so calm about this place? There are hookers everywhere!” Louis looks out the window again, and then snaps his head back towards Harry with widened eyes, “and I’m pretty sure I just witnessed a few guys shoot heroin up their arms!”

“Relax, Lou.” Harry’s still smiling, and Louis feels like hibernating. “This is just the quickest way to get there, because nobody comes through this road.”

Louis scoffs, “I can see why.”

Finally, they get to the little shop that Harry was so keen on. And after a few mumbled complaints, they finally sit at a table that suited them.

“We could’ve died out there.” Louis tells him, adjusting his top and jeans as he sits.

“Oh, Louis. Always the drama queen.”

Their lunch was served after a period of time that was far too long in Louis’ eyes, and after sending back his meal and coffee once, he finally settles and eats - and Harry’s already halfway through his first serving.

“You know,” Harry begins, still chewing on a mouthful of bread, “I still don’t understand why you send back meals in a public shop like, the cooking you do is terrible compared to this.”

Louis pulls a face and all he can come back with is, “swallow your food before you speak. It’s disgusting.”

Harry shakes his head, “You’re such a girl.”

“And that’s why you don’t find me attractive.” He says smartly, pointing a finger at him.

Harry swallows, and looks at him through his lashes, “who says I don’t find you attractive?”

“Oh, shut up.” Louis smiles and leans back into his chair as he pushes his plate forwards, “is that why you’ve pulled so many moves on me, then?”

“There is no need to be sarcastic, Louis.” Harry’s smirking, copying Louis’ actions by leaning back into his chair. He picks up his coke and downs the rest of it, then exhales loudly as he slams the cup back down on the table.

“So, where is this ‘music festival’ that you wanted to take me to?”

To that, Harry freezes. But before Louis can question it, Harry regains himself and looks to him with pleading eyes. He leans over the table so he’s closer, and takes Louis’ hand gently.

“Well-“

But Louis isn’t buying any of it, “Harry, god dammit. You said no clubs!”

“No, no. Wait,” he tries to take Louis’ hand again and Louis goes to flinch away, but instead sighs and lets him. “It’s not a club… It’s a bar.”

“A gay bar?”

“Uhh…”

“Harry!”

“Oh, c’mon!” Harry leans back again, his hands fly up, “I had to get you out there somehow, Lou.”

“But I’m not gay!”

Louis frowns, and sees Harry contemplate this for a second. They’ve known each other for so long; Louis thinks he could read exactly what Harry’s thinking just by watching the movement of his eyebrows.

“Maybe… Uh, you could just… come with me?”

“No.” He replies bluntly, and Harry looks at him like he just grew two heads, “didn’t you see the pile on my desk? I can’t!”

Harry regains himself and takes in a deep breath, “Louis Tomlinson,” he says, putting on his ‘professional’ voice, “I have dedicated my life to bringing you happiness.”

Louis rolls his eyes.

“And I believe it will bring you great joy if you came with me for a few drinks and some entertainment. Which, by doing this, will enhance your learning skills and achievements. Therefore, going out will earn you a gold star in life and homework.”

This time, Louis is looking at him weirdly. “What the hell are you saying? Do you do realise how much shit you talk?”

Harry groans, and puts his chin in his hands, looking at Louis pleadingly for what seems like the 400th time today. “Please just come with me? I can’t go by myself… that’s just impossible.”

“You go to gay bars to pick up gay guys don’t you?” Louis points out, and begins to play with the cloth on the table, “what are they gonna think when they see me enter in with you? It’s probably better if I don’t come.”

“I’ll drive you. Hell, I’ll even pay for you.” Harry takes his hand again, and Louis can _feel_ himself giving into Harry’s ridiculous charm. “Please, Louis. Please, please, please?”

“Oh my God! Fine!” Louis surrenders, and the whole café is filled with the shout of celebration from Harry.

~

Louis’ whole wardrobe is tossed all over his bed and floor. He stands hopelessly in front of the emptiness of it all and sighs. What the fuck is he supposed to wear to a _gay_ bar? It can’t be too flashy, he’s got to wear something that says “back off, I’m straight but I’m also good-looking” because Louis isn’t the one to leave the house in tracksuit pants and a sweatshirt.

But when Harry enters his room wearing nothing but jeans and a normal T-shirt, Louis sighs again.

“Are you kidding me?”

Harry ignores his question and laughs at the mess of his room instead, “dude.”

“Don’t laugh. I’m having a crisis.” Louis steps over some shirts and pushes the clothes off so he can sit on the edge of his bed with a huff.

“Dude,” Harry repeats, “I swear to _God_ you’re gay.”

“Fuck off.”

“No, seriously, not even I stress about what I’m gonna wear. And I’m the one planning on getting picked up tonight.”

Louis grunts, and falls back onto his bed, sliding his hands down his face.

“Just shut up and help me out.”

~

From the moment the music hits Louis’ ears, he knows this isn’t an everyday bar. But Harry was just so sure that it’ll be fun, _”it’s just a bar, I promise”._

And as Louis catches sight of the male stripper ripping off his shorts to reveal his golden underwear, Louis wants to crawl into a hole and escape there forever.

But he can’t move with the amount of boys pushing him in different directions. He doesn’t even realise he’s lost Harry until a guy, who looks like he’s in his 30s, grabs a hold of his arm and forces him to slam up against his chest.

“Wanna dance, pretty boy?”

Louis lets out an unintentional disgusted noise and pushes the cannabis smelling man off him forcefully, then turns around to somebody who he thinks might be Harry. Of course, when the curly headed boy turns around it’s not the one Louis came here with and Louis feels like crying.

_I’m gonna kill you Harry_ , Louis thinks, _I’m gonna kill you so hard._

“Aye, baby!”

_Oh no, not another one_.

“Let me buy you a drink, eh gorgeous?”

His question darts through Louis’ ear and his nose is filled with a scent of cheap cologne and a massive scent of alcohol which nearly makes him choke.

“No, thanks.”

The guy flies off him and onto another victim and Louis wonders if this is what girls feel like every time a boy tries to make a move.

“Nice ass,” a hand appears out of nowhere and Louis is sent gasping as his butt is squeezed so tightly he thinks there might be a bruise, “mind if I take a look?”

Louis doesn’t even bother to look when he says, “mind if you back the fuck off?”

“Ohh, nah baby don’t be like that I don’t bite… Baby where you goin’? Don’t leave-“

His voice fades out over the music as Louis struggles to push his way through the endless amounts of flirty guys who think they have a chance. Louis should have really invested a sign to display that he was straight and stuck it right on his forehead.

He finally finds the goddam bar, and collapses onto a stool with a grunt. It isn’t as busy as the dance floor, and Louis thinks he might have to wait here until Harry buys a drink so he can murder him then and there.

Louis’ expression might have given away what he was thinking about the place, because one of the bartenders start laughing at him.

He’s clean and tall, and has a broad chest and muscles and could be fit enough to be the bouncer of this place. Well, probably not, but he’s fitter than Louis and that’s pretty good.

He stops laughing and looks at Louis with a genuine smile, “I take it this wasn’t your idea?”

And Louis can only shake his head at that because hell no this wasn’t his idea, he’d rather be studying.

“Yeah,” the bartender continues, “a gay strip bar isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.”

Louis frowns and cups his hands around his face as his elbows prop up onto the bar. “I’m not even gay.” He begins, earning raised eyebrows from the brown-eyed boy, “My friend convinced me to come here and now he’s fucked off somewhere.”

“Oh, mate.” The bartender shakes his head sympathetically and starts to fill up a glass, “here,” he says, and places the cup of beer in front of Louis, “it’s on the house.”

“Oh… thanks.” He smiles, and takes a sip. Then drinks a whole lot of it because yes, he’d rather be tipsy in a place like this rather than full blown sober.

“I’m Liam by the way.” He tells him, throwing a cloth over his shoulder.

“Louis.” He nods, and Liam smiles. Then Louis looks at him questionably because nobody is usually this nice to him unless they want something. “You’re not trying to pick me up, are you? Because after all those guys out there grabbin’ my ass and shit I don’t think I could even like guys no matter how hard I tried.”

And Liam laughs at that, which is okay, because there’s no denying that he has a great laugh.

“No, man. I’m not gay either, I just work here because my best mates a stripper at this place and I really need a job, so.” He shrugs, and takes an order for a couple that are probably attached to each other with every limb of their bodies.

Louis finishes his glass and thanks Liam. “Well, I gotta go and murder my friend.”

Liam smiles and waves once, “have fun!”

Pushing pass the sea of boys, Louis doesn’t even bother to give any of them the time of day. He zones out the amounts of “hey sexy“‘s and “haven’t seen you before“‘s before he finally catches his eye of Harry.

“Jesus Christ.” He mutters under his breath as he sees where he is.

He hadn’t noticed it when he walked in, but there are about three different stages, the middle one with a pole, occupied by guys who keep tearing off their own clothes for money. And Harry couldn’t have looked more excited.

He’s watching a boy do a strip dance, who’s twirling around and making attempts of being ‘sexy’… which actually seems to be working according to the loud hoots the audience gives out. It makes Louis frown because wow, imagine having that as a job.

He doesn’t hesitate, though. He storms up to Harry and tugs on his arm violently until Harry takes notice.

“Oh hey, Lou. Was wonderin’ where you were.”

“Yeah, well, c’mon. We’re leaving.”

Harry’s expression changes in a flash, his eyes now look hurt.

“No, wait, Louis. I just wanna see this last stripper then we’ll leave, okay?”

He doesn’t know why he does it, but Louis sinks down into the chair next to him and rolls his eyes, “you’re such a child.”

After one last lick of the lips, the disturbing male waves off and collects the pay for the night and finally gets off the stage. Good. Now there’s just one more and then they can go.

Louis becomes strangely fascinated by his fingertips and now really, really wishes he had just stayed home.

“Are your eyes the ocean? Because I could swim in them all day.”

It’s another flirtatious guy who reeks of drugs and alcohol. It’s so repulsive Louis doesn’t even bother turning to look at his face that he imagines to be worse than his smell.

Instead he just raises his eyebrows and cocks his head to one side, “original.”

Louis can hear the guys’ mouth open from behind him, but thankfully Harry cuts in.

“Sorry, bro. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh, shit I’m so sorry.”

As soon as he leaves, Louis goes to turn to thank him - but is interrupted by the state Harry’s in. He’s nearly falling off his chair in laughter, his eyes starting to water.

“Fuck off.” Louis says blandly.

Harry tries to calm down, “dude, I didn’t even think about that,” he laughs again and wipes his eyes, “you would’ve had to fight off so many guys tonight.”

“Yep.” Louis replies, popping the ‘p’.

Harry laughs again, and then slaps Louis’ shoulder, “I’m so sorry, bro.”

He shrugs Harry’s hand off because no, he’s far from sorry. He’s probably relishing in this night.

“Ooh!” Harry nearly bounces off his chair in excitement, “here he is!”

The stripper’s wearing something less glittery and no sequins - which is what all the other ones were wearing from what Louis could see. And this one actually looks _normal_ … besides the fact that he’s a goddam _stripper_.

He starts to take a hold of the pole and dance around it. And it wasn’t like Louis _wants_ to watch him or anything - but it’s a bit hard not to when he’s right there - practically grinding in front of your face on a pole that may as well be Harry’s boner.

He steps into the spotlight and Louis can see what he looks like now. He’s got tanned skin, from what’s not covered by the tattoos on his arm, and he’s got brown- close to black- hair that’s styled in a way Louis never thought was possible.

The only reason why Louis catches a glimpse of what eye colour he has, is because the stripper looks directly into his at the same time.

They lock eyes, and for some reason Louis can’t look away.

Their brown, his eyes, which Louis’ never been a fan off, but on this stranger it seems to fit him perfectly.

Then the stripper smirks at him, and that’s when Louis breaks contact.

He stands from his chair abruptly and goes to tell Harry that he’s leaving. But one look and Louis knows he’s not going to be able to grab his attention no matter how hard he tries.

So, Louis heads towards the exist alone. The whole dance floor seems to be bare, since everyone’s made their way over to the new act; the boy who smirked at him.

Louis shakes his head furiously, and storms out the door.

“Can’t handle it, eh?” The bouncer comments, winking once.

Louis feels a shudder run down his spine. Suddenly everyone and everything feels creepy, and now he has to walk home alone.

 


	2. The Wrong Kind

The words on the pages seem to scare him worse than before. They’re shouting at him, gnawing at him with sharp teeth. They’re screaming out, almost like they _want_ to scare him away.

But Louis knows he has to finish it, or else he won’t pass this semester. And he _has_ to pass this semester.

He still hasn’t spoken a word to Harry about that night at the strip club. It’s been two weeks since Harry called him up and apologised too many times, which resulted in Louis hanging up on him. He’s pretty sure Harry’s given up on trying to convince him to go out now, which is probably best, since this gives him time to focus on study without interruptions.

But he’s been studying for days on end. The words that glare back at him don’t even make any sense anymore and his visions blurry and he’s so sure his brains about to fall out of his butt if he stays awake any longer.

Louis checks the time on his phone and it’s only 2 in the afternoon. He groans, and lets his face fall into the palms of his hands.

Coffee. Coffee’s what he needs.

He trudges down the hall, entering the kitchen where his mum’s perched, drinking tea and flicking through a fashion magazine.

"Oh, how nice to see you come out of hibernation."

"Hi, mum." He replies, forcing a smile so limp only a blind person would think it’s real.

"What are you looking for?" She asks sceptically, watching as Louis ducks his head in every cupboard, then closes it shut with a groan of disappointment.

He turns around and sighs, “Coffee. We got any?"

She shakes her head and Louis’ face literally falls.

"Sorry, babe. You could try getting one from the coffee shop down the road?" She quirks an eyebrow, “you look like you need some fresh air anyway."

Louis mumbles something he can’t even comprehend himself, and grabs a coat and keys and walks out the door.

He feels like cursing at everything he sees when the cold air hits him like a pack of ice. He tells himself every day to invest in a pair of socks, but for some reason he never comes around to it. He makes yet another mental note to do so, and quickens his pace towards the coffee shop.

It’s cute and small, and every customer looks to be over 60. The door chimes quietly when he opens it, and the elderly smile at him when he walks through.

He makes his way up to the counter as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, taking out some money.

When he looks up, he’s sure his stomach just fell to his toes.

That… stripper. The one that _smirked_ at him. Is here, behind the counter. Yet again, _smiling_.

He doesn’t even look like he belongs to a strip club. His air is nicely groomed, his uniform is ironed and he doesn’t smell like vodka or sex. And his eyes are more defined than ever. Louis knew they were brown but in the light of the coffee shop they’re a shade of something else, and his eyelashes are so long Louis thinks he might faint.

He slaps himself mentally as fast as possible and orders a cappuccino before he can say anything else. The tanned boy takes his order and smiles again, but Louis can’t bring himself to smile back.

He’s praying that this guy won’t recognise him, that he won’t attempt a conversation or bring up the fact that Louis’ best friend was practically getting ready to suck a stripper’s dick a fortnight ago.

But God doesn’t seem to be on his side at all.

"You know, you look familiar."

His accent is strong, but Louis can’t quite pinpoint where exactly he’s from. There’s definitely a bit of English, like his own, but something else as well.

And because Louis doesn’t want to be known as the guy who went to a strip club, he plays dumb.

"Really? I’ve never seen you before."

"Yeah, rightio sailor." He laughs, “here’s your coffee."

Louis takes it, and turns to leave as fast as he can. How the _hell_ does somebody recognise a face in a crowd full of horny males - especially one that only caught his eye for like, one point of a second?

He shakes his head and takes his phone out, calling Harry’s number and telling him to come over.

-

"Harry." He says once he opens up the door, exhaling the name.

"Louis?" He cocks an eyebrow and looks at him questionably, his eyes with concern more than anything else.

"Yeah, uh," Louis gestures for him to come inside and closes the door once he is. But his mum’s in the kitchen and he can’t risk her hearing anything. “Come."

He grabs a hold of Harry’s wrist and pulls him into his bedroom hurriedly. Which leads Harry to freak out more than necessary, and the coffee Louis downed in one go probably wasn’t helping.

"What’s going on?" Harry’s eyebrows are frowning now, but Louis tries to keep him calm.

"No, nothing."

"Then… What-"

"You know that stripper?"

There’s a spark in Harry’s eye for a second. “Which one?"

"The one… You know the one. The one that you _really_ wanted to see? The one who you favoured over me and were practically drooling when-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know the one. So what about him?"

Louis takes in a deep breath and collapses in his desk chair as Harry stays standing. Which makes Louis stand. Then sit. Then pace. And he can’t stay still.

Until Harry stops him by taking a hold of his shoulders.

"Do you _see_ what’s going on right now? _This_ is what happens when we don’t go out!"

Louis shrugs off Harry’s firm hands and scoffs. “I’m only like this ‘cause I had too much caffeine." He looks at Harry and crosses his arms, “which, by the way, was served to me by _the_ stripper."

Harry’s mouth peels into a grin, “you recognised him?"

"What?" Louis scrunches up his face, “he recognised _me_. Which I thought was weird."

"Maybe he likes you."

Louis lets out another scoff and waves Harry away. He’s bouncing on his toes now, and feels like jogging, or skipping, or running. And this is exactly why he shouldn’t be allowed anything with caffeine in it.

"And… Maybe you fancy him too, eh?"

Louis’ train of thought comes back to Harry’s voice, making him crease his eyebrows together.

"Huh?"

"Zayn. You like him too?"

Louis looks at Harry strangely, " _Who_?"

And Harry rolls his eyes and lets out an exaggerated sigh, “Zayn! The one that served you, God damn it."

"What? How the hell do you know his name?"

This makes Harry go quiet. He suddenly avoids Louis’ eyes and his fingers play together as Louis can literally _see_ him trying to think up a good excuse.

But the time’s up and Louis already knows why.

His mouth flies open and his finger points towards him, “You banged him didn’t you!"

Harry makes a sound and shakes his head nervously, “ha, no. We didn’t actually _bang_ , but-"

"You brought him home though, yes?"

"Well, yeah." Harry tells him, and Louis’ eyes widen, “but nothing much happened! Like, he gave me head, that’s all."

"Harry! You can’t just take strippers home!"

"C’mon Lou, give me a break. He’s hot as fuck!"

Louis rolls his eyes and collapses on his bed. He should’ve given up a long time ago; Harry’s never listened to him anyway.

Harry sits beside Louis and takes out his phone. He’s texting someone that’s putting a smile on his face, and Louis can’t help but find out who.

He pokes his knee and smirks, “who you textin’?"

Harry looks at him once and laughs, “It’s not what you think, tiger. It’s Niall."

"Oh."

Niall’s another one of Harry’s many friends. They used to hang out together all the time, until he moved back to Ireland and hasn’t returned for about 8 months.

It’s something about him that irks Louis and he doesn’t know what. Maybe it’s just jealously, but for whatever reason they just never seemed to get along.

"Yeah," Harry continues, still typing away on his phone with that stupid smile plastered on his face, “he’s coming down for my birthday!"

Louis raises his eyebrows and grits his teeth together unknowingly. " _Oh._ ”

See, the one trait Louis possesses and is the most domineering yet hibernated, is protectiveness. He might not show it often, but Harry’s kind of his only real friend and although he’s clingy and craves attention worse than a puppy, it’s still _Harry_. And on Louis’ watch, nobody else is allowed to steal him.

-

A few weeks pass and Louis’ pretty sure he’s forgotten about Zayn the stripper. He’s forgotten about that night at the club, that time at the coffee shop. And he’s forgotten that Niall, Harry’s friend, is coming down tomorrow. For Harry’s birthday.

Louis had tried to convince him to just have a small gathering, a few people and some family to celebrate his 20th birthday.

_"No way, are you kidding? Do you know me at all?"_

Instead, his house is filled with streamers and balloons and alcoholic punch and music that neither Louis or Harry listen to - “Niall told me this playlist goes off at parties!" - And Louis is so sure that the night will only end with Harry passed out on the couch with a cock in his mouth.

It’s not very long until the house is filled with people Louis has never seen in his life, but of course Harry knows the name of every single one, and it’s also not very long until Louis is downing shot after shot. He’d give anything to absolutely blind drunk and not have to worry about tonight.

A few hours in, and Harry’s being chat up by what Louis thinks might be the 16th guy tonight. But Harry lets them down way too smoothly to be legal - well, compared to Louis’ batting hands and course insults - and with a small smile, the flirty males leave him alone without question.

Louis has to question it, though.

"No birthday sex for the birthday boy this year?"

"Christ, Louis," Harry holds Louis up and carefully places him on the spot next to him on the couch, “how much have you had?"

"Uhh," he tries to recall each drink he poured, but his head starts to hurt and his memory’s blurry, “I’m… not sure, actually."

Harry has to laugh at that as he pats Louis’ knee, “never thought I’d see the day where I’d be the one taking care of you, hey?"

Louis smiles weakly as Harry gets up, “you’re the birthday boy."

"Yes, Lou." Harry replies with a smile, and kisses him on the forehead lightly, “I’ll be back, okay? Just gonna get you a glass of water."

Louis’ grinning now, “happy birthday."

Harry shakes his head with a laugh, “sit tight, Lou."

And Harry leaves the room and Louis is left to feel spaced out and dazed by himself. He looks around and witnesses two couples making out on the chairs beside him. After pulling a face, he turns to the fireplace.

It’s not on, but there are two girls standing close to it. One’s a brunette and the other one’s a redhead, from what Louis can see. They’ve both got stunning legs and great faces… but he can’t really trust his eyesight at this point. For all he knows they might actually be 30 year old men with bodies the size of sumo wrestlers.

Louis groans, and leans back into the couch. He closes his eyes for a second, only to hear Harry come back into the room, followed by a cackling laugh that definitely does not belong to him.

Harry hands the glass of water to Louis and tells him to sip it slowly. Louis nods, and laughs when his mouth just couldn’t find the rim of the cup. He eventually took a few sips, and gave Harry a very slurred thank-you before telling him to not worry about it, and to go enjoy his party.

"You sure you’ll be okay?"

Louis nods a few more times than necessary, “go!"

Harry leaves again, and the laugh from before returns.

He’s heard it somewhere before, it’s loud and sometimes contagious, but Louis doesn’t want it to be.

"Aye, Tommo!"

Oh. That’s who.

That accent could be recognised anywhere. It’s thick and fast, and half the time Louis doesn’t even understand what the boy’s saying.

"Hey, Niall."

The blonde sits next to him, almost jumping onto the couch and flinging Louis off it. Niall’s grin is wide, and his eyes are glazed.

"Enjoyin’ the party?" He asks Louis in a loud voice, then notices what he’s drinking, “water, eh? That ain’t very fun."

Louis shrugs, “Harry gave this to me," he swishes it around in his glass for a while, both of them mesmerised by the water.

Wow they really are drunk.

"He said I was too drunk." Louis continues, rolling his eyes.

Niall laughs loudly, “you can never be too drunk!"

"You’re Irish," Louis states, his finger lazily pointing at Niall’s red cheek, “you’re used to it."

"Nah!" He’s so loud in Louis’ ear, he doesn’t know whether it’s just him, or if Niall is just being extra volumed tonight, “you’re just weak!"

Louis drops his finger and shrugs. He takes another sip of water and Niall takes another mouthful of whatever alcoholic drink he’s got plastered in his hand. He’s not talking for a while, and Louis is so relaxed he thinks he might fall asleep. But Niall’s shifting and changing his position every second which is also moving Louis, too.

"So," Niall starts out again, “what’d you get Haz?"

Louis looks down at his hands. Even when he’s intoxicated he still can’t handle Niall or be around him, he’d much rather be in bed right now than have this conversation.

"Uhh, I made him a mix tape."

"A mix tape? Aw, that’s cool man."

Louis nods, and just knows that Niall’s waiting to be asked.

He sighs, “you?"

Brightness fills Niall’s eyes and Louis swears he sees his left one sparkle as he looks at him. There’s a tad of mischievousness in there too, and Louis can’t even imagine what Niall has planned.

"You’ll see."

-

"You alright now?" Harry asks, his hands deep in his pockets.

His shirt has been badly torn, almost open right in the middle. His hair’s a big mess, and his only got one sock on.

Either Harry’s just really drunk, or he’s had real sloppy sex with one of the guys here.

Louis’ starting to think it may be both.

"Yeah, better." He replies. And it’s true, he’s stopped drinking now and his senses are coming back to him.

"You having a good time?"

He’s like that, Harry. Even at his own party he wants to make sure everyone’s having a blast. And if they’re not, he’ll do everything he can to make them feel better.

So, to save him the stress, Louis lies and says,

"It’s great."

There’s a call from the next room loud enough to make them both turn around. It isn’t ‘till the next shout when they hear it’s Harry’s name being called by Niall.

Harry raises his eyebrows and flashes a smile, “duty calls."

Louis forces his lips to curve as Harry begins to walk into the other room. But he waits before he enters and turns back around with a frown.

"You coming?"

Louis shakes his head, “nah. I think I’ll just-"

"Louis." Harry says sternly, and stretches out his arm towards him, “come with me."

He can’t help but laugh when Louis takes his hand and Harry grins so wide his face could split in half.

Truth is, Louis’ mood has come down a shitload since that talk with Harry’s friend Niall. What if his present wasn’t enough? Harry does so much for him and maybe Louis doesn’t appreciate him as much as he needs to. But what can you give someone that already has everything?

And entering the room trailing behind Harry, his last question was answered.

Louis freezes in his tracks. A circle of guests are surrounding someone in the middle. He has a chair in front of him, and his hand is gesturing for Harry to take a seat.

Harry lets go of Louis’ hand straight away and almost _skips_ with glee as he makes his way over to him.

And Zayn hugs Harry, with a devilish smile that sends a shiver through Louis’ body, making him want to run away yet again.

 


	3. Love Me One Day

Louis quickly goes to turn around and get out of there, because he couldn’t think of anything more awkward then bumping into this boy yet again. But his shirt’s being tugged and he’s encouraged to stay, and Louis has no choice but to lean up against the wall and enjoy the show.

Fucking Niall brought over a goddamn stripper for Harry’s birthday.

"Oh," Niall comments with a smile, his finger waving between Harry and Zayn after their embrace, “you know each other?"

Harry breaks into an innocent smirk, “you could say that."

They all laugh and Louis wants to die. He actually could not think of anything worse than witnessing his best friend get a lap dance right in front of his eyes.

The tanned boy sits Harry down firmly, then brushes his fingertips contrastingly delicate across Harry’s jawline - making Harry almost _purr_ with affection - then, Zayn does what he’s paid to do, and strips.

He starts with his jacket, teasingly opening up one button at a time as he walks around Harry. He pulls off his sleeves and dangles his surprisingly expensive coat in front of Harry, then throws it in Louis’ direction curtly.

You know when Louis thought things couldn’t get worse? He lied.

Zayn looks up, and locks eyes with Louis just as Louis drops the coat that was so rudely tossed at him. Zayn’s eyes flicker with wonderment as Louis just stares back at him plainly.

He feels like he’s back at that strip club, where he doesn’t _want_ to watch, but really has no other choice. And Zayn winks at him again, and continues his “performance" with a permanent smirk on his face, as though he’s pleased he’s got a better audience now.

He bends over in front of Harry, and Louis doesn’t know what else to do but roll his eyes. And when Harry squeezes his ass, Zayn turns back around and bats Harry’s hand away innocently. Harry giggles - he _giggles_ \- and Zayn straddles his lap.

Louis’ leaning back on the wall that’s behind Harry’s chair. So really, he’s got the best view if you enjoy this type of thing.

He can handle the playing of the hair, the tearing of the clothes, hell, even the kisses on the neck he can handle.

But it’s when Zayn’s sucking on Harry’s jawline, and locks eyes with him, which turns him edgy.

He doesn’t stop staring at Louis. Even when Harry’s taking control and kissing down his neck, he doesn’t break eye contact. Everyone’s yelling and hooting around them, but Zayn just doesn’t want to look anywhere else.

And Louis can’t help but stare back. But he starts to feel uncomfortable, because this stripper, who sucked his best friend off, is now strip teasing for him and locking eyes with Louis as he does so.

So Louis breaks first, which is when he notices that his jaw’s gone slack and his mouth is slightly open. He looks around, and everyone’s absolutely loving it. But Louis can’t look back at them both, it’d probably creep him out even more.

So he pushes pass the cheering guests and turns to get through the nearest exist out into the fresh cold air.

-

 _There’s something wrong with that boy,_ Louis thinks to himself, leaning over Harry’s balcony with his chin in his hands, _I swear to God, why did Niall have to hire_ that _one?_

He sighs heavily, and mumbles to himself. “Out of all the strippers in the world…"

"Something wrong?"

Fuck.

Louis turns around and tries not to curse out loud. Who else but Zayn, is there, picking out a cigarette from his packet and placing it into his mouth.

Louis shakes his head to answer his question, “No."

He feels like turning again and escaping like before. But Zayn’s up against the same barrier and Louis can’t get inside without passing him.

So he stands and decides he’ll wait until the last of the cigarette burns out.

But Louis thinks having a smoke isn’t the only reason why Zayn’s out here, even more so when he begins to speak.

"You know, I knew you looked familiar."

Louis doesn’t even bother to show emotion when he replies, “yeah?"

"Yeah. You were with Harry that night I met him."

Louis feels his cheeks begin to warm up. No, he wasn’t there. He’s got the wrong guy.

 _Tell him he’s got the wrong guy_ , Louis thinks harshly to himself.

"Uh huh." Louis says instead. “And aren’t you the guy at the coffee shop?"

"Sure am," he says, blowing out smoke, “gotta have a day job, you know."

Louis nods once and wonders to himself why he’s making small talk to a guy that really does not deserve his time. He works at a strip club being a filthy stripper who ever so willingly comes back with strangers to suck them off and needs two jobs to withstand his life. And Louis is studying law at university and was doing really great until _he_ came along and fucked up his mindset.

Louis should be well gone now, shouldn’t even be breathing the same tobacco infested air as Zayn. He should be at home, spending his nights-

"I gotta tell ya," he continues, interrupting Louis’ thoughts, “when I was on that stage I was wishin’ that it’d be you I’d go home with." He tells him calmly, taking in his last drag, “You know, instead of Harry."

He squishes what’s left of his dart into the ashtray and looks up at Louis through his eyelashes.

Louis finds it hard to breathe all of a sudden and can’t find his voice box anywhere. To say he was stunned with Zayn’s careless confession would be an understatement.

And when he does manage to make a sound, all he can come out with is:

"Okay."

His eyes dart around and the door looks so, so pleasing to him. He mutters a quick, “I have to go." And squeezes past Zayn without making any form of eye contact at all.

When he finally gets through and hears a faint word from Zayn through the door, Louis’ already is thinking about saying thanks to Harry and getting home.

-

Waking up, he slams his palm down onto his alarm clock lazily. It’s Monday, and his lecture starts soon and he has to drive himself. He turns over in his bed and unlocks his phone after adjusting to the sudden light that could blind him.

18 missed calls from Harry.

He checks his text messages.

Sunday 10:42am:  
 _Hiiiii. Just wanted to know if you were feeling okay. Not hung over I hope :). Xx_

Sunday 1:06pm:   
 _Are you still asleep, sweetie? Time to get up! Xx._

Sunday 3:45pm:  
 _11 missed calls later and I’m still trying to reach you… Are you okaaayyy? Love you x._

Sunday 5:15pm:   
 _Well, looks like your voicemail has become my new best friend. I shall call him Rex._

Sunday 7:00pm  
 _Rex doesn’t want to talk to me either… And he kept interrupting me with a beep. :( please wake up soon you’re scaring me! Xx._

Sunday 11:24pm:  
 _Okay, that’s it. If you don’t respond to me by tomorrow morning I’m coming over and making sure you’re still alive. Deal?_

Louis smiles and rolls onto his back with a sigh. He shakes his head slightly and wonders how he spent yesterday since it was a blur to him.

Oh, that’s right. It was on the couch all afternoon since he slept until 1pm, where he then watched re-runs all day and didn’t get into bed until the AM.

So Louis types in a quick reply to Harry because he doesn’t need to be checked up on and really wants to save him the worry.

But just as he hits send, the front door is being knocked on and Louis has no choice but to throw on a top and loose pants to open the door.

"Louis!" Harry’s got a big grin as he wraps his arms solidly around his waist in a big hug. He squeezes tightly, and doesn’t let go until his phone beeps.

"Hi, Harry." Louis finally responds, catching his breath.

"Oh," Harry points to his phone with a laugh, “I just got your text."

"I was a bit too late on that one."

"Better late than never, you bastard." Harry pokes Louis slightly, coming into the house, “had me worried sick."

Louis scoffs, “yeah, I know."

They both walk into the kitchen, and judging by the way Harry’s already dressed and ready, he’s already had breakfast. So Louis just puts two slices of bread in the toaster and one plate out for himself.

"So," Harry begins, siting at the bench with a banana already in his hand, “what’s the plans for today?"

"I got a class today."

Harry groans, “Really? Can’t you skip?"

Louis looks at him and puts all his weight on one foot, he places his hands on his hips and continues to look at him.

"And do what, Harry?"

He shrugs, “I dunno… I mean, I haven’t seen you for like, twenty-eight hours and-"

Louis rolls his eyes and takes the popped toast out onto his plate. “You’re seeing me now, aren’t you?"

He takes a knife and slops on some topping that really doesn’t spread right, then takes a bite. Harry finishes his banana and tosses the skin aside, which calls for a quick disgusted side eye from Louis.

"Hey, why don’t I drive you to your lecture?" Harry suggests, his fingers lacing together.

"I was hoping you’d say that, actually." Louis says with a smirk.

He leans his back against the counter and finishes his piece of toast.

Harry smiles at him and nods to himself, “I thought so. Couldn’t imagine someone like you taking public transport anyway."

Louis’ mouth falls open, “and what’s that supposed to mean?"

Harry’s head falls back as he laughs mockingly, “c’mon Lou. We both know you’re not cut out for back streets and, you know, ‘the rough side of life’," he tells him, as he hops off his stool, “you’re finicky and petite… and that’s probably why Zayn likes you so much."

By the time Harry stops talking, Louis is sure that his own eyebrows have permanently imprinted into his own skull from frowning so hard. But Harry just looks back at him so clueless that Louis returns to his position before. Hands on hips and an expression to tell his friend he’s in trouble.

"I’m not sure what part of that I should take offence to first."

And Harry laughs as his walking away, his voice fading off as he continues to yell back, “make that: finicky, petite, and sensitive as fuck!"

Louis feels like slapping him across the face. But then he imagined himself walking up to Harry and actually slapping him across the face.

Harry would probably just laugh again and add “gay" to the list.

So Louis just rolls his eyes and jumps in the shower to get ready for class.

_Likes you so much_

_That’s probably why Zayn likes you so much_

_Zayn likes you_

"Fuck." Louis mutters under his breath. He opens his mouth and lets the warm water from the shower fall into his mouth.

Then he steps underneath the nozzle and just stands there, the water rushing over him like he’s underneath a waterfall. Thinking that by doing this - his mind will wash out and be clear again.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

It doesn’t work - it’s like, by trying to wash it away, it’s only making it worse. It’s not like Louis didn’t have a clue that this boy might have had a thing for him… but with Harry saying that only made it ten times more real, which just made everything so much worse.

He closes his eyes. Zayn’s face. He opens his eyes. Zayn’s face. And at this point, Louis’ sure Zayn’s some kind of weird voodoo artist that’s casted a spell on Louis to think about him all the time.

-

In the car, it really does get worse. And Louis feels like tearing his hair out because when he looks at Harry, all he can think about is what Zayn said to him:

_"When I was on that stage I was wishin’ that it’d be you I’d go home with. You know, instead of Harry."_

And as he thinks about this, Louis doesn’t know whether he wants to scream or laugh or frown or throw up. Because yes, nobody’s really ever shown this much straight-forward affection towards him before. And no, he’s never even thought of guy’s _that_ way before, either.

But then it strikes him. What if he really doesn’t like Louis? He’s just playing some sort of game? He _is_ a stripper or hooker… Or whatever he is. But he’s somebody that needs clients, and maybe leading them on is how he gets them.

"Hey, Louis?" Harry’s voice tunes into his ears. He stops looking out the window to turn to him. He’s got a worried look and he’s stopped at a red light, “you okay?"

"Uhh, yeah I’m," Louis pauses, and there’s a hitch in his breath before he can continue. He looks away, then back at Harry, but still avoids his eyes. “You know how you said, before… ‘Zayn likes you’?"

A small smile stretches on Harry’s face, “yeah?"

"Well, is that, you know." Louis fidgets awkwardly in Harry’s leather seat and he clears his throat once, “is that true?"

Harry laughs straight away, “fuck yeah!"

And Louis doesn’t know if he’s ever felt more relieved or disappointed in his life.

He lets out a sigh and stares out the window for a while in silence. He can feel Harry’s eyes dart over at him every now and then, until they linger there for a bit longer.

"I’m guessing that’s something you didn’t want to hear?"

Louis looks down and can’t pinpoint exactly _what_ he wanted to hear. But Zayn’s face is still there in the back of his mind and he can’t figure out if he’s supposed to feel frustrated or confused. So there’s a little bit of both, but it’s probably mostly confusion.

But Louis just shrugs, “I don’t know. I guess this just makes things a little bit awkward now, that’s all."

"Well I’ll tell you what," Harry starts off, his voice not unsure now, but more excited, “Zayn’s gonna be at the club tomorrow night, and I have a date there and-"

"Harry, I’m not gonna third wheel on your date."

"Wait, no, just hear me out." Louis looks at him doubtfully and Harry swallows deeply, “I just… really need you there, okay? It won’t be as fun without you."

And Louis finds himself contemplating this, actually considers going back to the place he so desperately wanted to leave. But it’s Harry and he’s only asking for a favour, he could treat it as an additional birthday present, since he still feels like his mix tape wasn’t enough.

So Louis looks back at Harry, takes in a breath and lets all his logic go. And because he wants to see Zayn’s face again, he nods and says:

"Okay."

 


	4. My Body Is Yours

The hoots outside is Louis’ cue to go, so he grabs his wallet and phone, places a kiss on his mums cheek, and opens the front door to Harry.

And his date.

"Hi Louis!" Harry grins, and Louis just stands there. He forgot Harry was bringing someone else. “Uhh, this is Ben. Ben… this is Louis."

"Hey, nice to meet you."

He looks Italian, maybe Spanish. He’s got brown skin, dark hair…just like Zayn. But he’s also got brown eyes, yet they don’t look anything like Zayn’s. They’re the type of brown Louis doesn’t like.

He also smells of overpowering cheap cologne that he’s probably sprayed on every inch of his body. And has a chewy in his mouth that he’s chewing constantly like a cow. If it was anyone else, Louis would shrug them off straight away. But it’s Harry’s date, so he feels as though he should give this person a chance.

So Louis puts on a smile and shakes his waiting hand, “yeah, you too."

"Great!" Harry inputs, gesturing towards the car, “let’s get this party going then, shall we?"

Louis has been forced to go into the back seat. Which is okay, because yeah, Harry’s got a date so he should get first preference, right?

Harry starts the car and Louis catches his eye in the mirror. He’s saying something in his eyes, first it’s an overall apology and Louis just shrugs in response. Then he asks what he thinks of Ben.

Louis decides to ignore that one.

"So," Ben starts to say when they’re on the road, “who are you looking for tonight?"

Louis frowns, “sorry?"

"You know, who’s your type? The big, buff men? Or the flamboyant type, like yourself?"

Louis sits up right and Harry bites his lip harshly.

"Excuse me?" Louis asks him, pure venom in his voice as his arms cross over his chest tightly.

"What? I’m just asking if you-"

"Louis isn’t gay, Ben." Harry corrects him, his fingers turning white against the steering wheel in anticipation.

"And I’m not flamboyant!" Louis snaps.

"Oh, fuck." Ben’s hand wraps around his hair, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I just thought because we’re-"

"It’s fine." Louis replies, his voice stern as his eyes burn through the back of Ben’s seat and through that dumb head of his.

And he can actually see the devastation in Harry’s eyes as he glances at the road. Because once Louis’ first impression of someone isn’t a good one, it sticks like that forever. Unless they do something pretty fucking amazing to change it.

But they finally get to their destination and get out of the car as fast as possible. Since the rest of the drive was just awkward silence and darting glances at each other even more awkwardly.

Harry puts his hand on the small of Ben’s back and guides him into the club, before turning his head to Louis and smiling at him.

"I’ll be at the stage." He says, then leaves in the midst of dancing boys.

Louis sighs and enters, and doesn’t even pay attention to the boys coming up to him now. They’re all just a big blur in his ear. Like white noise.

He scans the club once, and stands on his tippy-toes to get a good look. Sometimes he really wishes he was as tall as Harry… or even just a bit taller.

But a smile is put on his face when he sees Liam working at the bar again. He pushes through a few people and sits on the stool happily, waiting for Liam to notice him.

"Okay, have a good night." He turns around to clean some cups, then lifts his head and his eyes light up, “hey, look who it is!"

Louis nods with another smile and Liam walks towards him.

"Been dragged in here again have you?" He asks, pushing his cloth into one of the glasses and twirling it around, “Or did you just come here to see me again?"

Louis laughs lightly, “Yeah, you wish Liam. No, I got forced here again sadly. By the same boy, too."

"No kidding."

"Yep."

"Wow," Liam’s eyes widen, “you must really like him then."

"That’s what friends are for." Louis sighs, then puts some money on the counter, “Can I have my first one for the night?"

Liam nods, “of course." He fills up a glass of beer and pushes it towards Louis, “You know, I’ve heard a lot about you."

"Oh yeah? From who?"

"Uhh, I think you might know him. He goes by the name Zayn."

Louis spits out the beer he just drank and wipes his mouth instantly with the back of his hand, “what?"

Liam looks at him, wide-eyed. “Should I… not have told you that?"

"No, I just… what?" Louis finds himself frowning worse than before, and his mind is boggling so hard he thinks he might fall over, “What has he said?"

Liam laughs nervously, which has Louis pretty scared.

"Well, uh," Liam begins, but then his eyes are distracted by something else and suddenly there’s a big cheer from the crowd. “Why don’t you go and ask him yourself?"

Louis turns around in his stool and the lights are more blinding than inviting. There’s one particular spotlight, which is shining on nothing but a pole. And then Zayn.

What is this guy’s obsession with him? Yeah, sure, tell your best friend the bartender about some boy that you’ve had two short conversations with. He really needs to be set straight, maybe if Louis tells him he’s not interested he’ll finally back off and stop entering Louis’ mind all the time.

So Louis downs the rest of his beer and earns a quick hoot from Liam before he storms up to the stage and bumps into Harry accidentally.

"Louis!"

"Hey, Harry… where’s Ben?"

"Oh," Harry rolls his eyes with a smile, his hand landing sloppily on Louis’ shoulder, “I told him to fuck off because he was too clingy. He was _really_ clingy."

"No kidding," Louis says with rolled eyes. He can’t hide the smirk that appears on his lips, because he’s way too happy that Ben didn’t last long. “So did you wanna leave, then?"

Harry looks at him once and immediately shakes his head a few times, “no way! He only just came on!"

And Louis has to cringe at that, because he didn’t even think about it. And when he follows Harry’s gaze up towards the stage, his eyes are filled with nothing but Zayn.

He wraps his bare, tanned leg around the pole with confidence, and spins around it once. He then leans down on his hands and knees and crawls seductively over to a middle-aged man that’s been screaming and cheering the whole time he’s been on.

Once Zayn takes a hold of his collar, the man falls silent and his eyes go wide. Zayn whispers something into his ear and the man nods submissively, and dips into his wallet to give him a generous amount of money, to which was then shoved into Zayn’s pants.

Louis’ left there, with a gaping mouth and bewildered eyes.

Zayn then looks into the man’s eyes long enough that it looks like they’re about to kiss. But when the man leans in and closes his eyes, Zayn does nothing but stroke his jawline and stand up, away from him.

Leaving this guy looking like he’s about to faint.

A few more dances and a few more strip teases, guaranteed by a few more hundred dollars, and Zayn’s ‘show’ is over. He bids everyone good-bye and they all walk away with a sad look in their eyes.

"Okay, let’s go." Louis tugs on Harry’s arm.

And before Harry can even say anything, a voice rings behind him.

"Couldn’t get enough of me, hey?"

Louis turns around and Zayn’s menacing face is walking towards him. He tries to back away but instead bumps into Harry, who laughs.

"I only came ‘cause of Harry."

_Lame answer, Louis. Such a lame answer._

"Oh, really?" Zayn asks and has the nerve to _smirk_ at him. He must know what that does to Louis by now.

"Yeah Louis isn’t even gay. I wouldn’t bother, Zayn." Harry says from behind Louis, and Louis smiles at Zayn as some form of confirmation.

But instead of Zayn’s face falling as a quiet, “Oh," like Louis had expected, Zayn says something completely different.

"Ten dollars I can change that."

"What?"

"Ten dollars," Zayn repeats, backing Louis into a chair and sitting him down roughly with a gleam in his eye, “I can change your sexuality."

"No." Harry objects suddenly, “no way. You’ll lose, Zayn."

Zayn cocks an eyebrow and looks down at Louis, “what do you say? Wanna take a risk, little man?"

Louis squints harshly up at him. How dare he call him ‘little man’? The amount of anger and frustration he has built up inside of Louis, it’d be amazing if Zayn could even turn him bisexual.

So Louis looks at him intently and holds out his hand, “Deal."

Zayn smiles and connects his hand with Louis’ - earning a sharp and fast gasp from Harry.

And then Zayn begins.

Harry sits in a chair aside from Louis as he shakes his head disbelievingly. And as Zayn turns around, Louis glances over to the bar where Liam’s also watching.

So Louis sits tight, and tries to somewhat prepare himself for whatever the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

He watches as Zayn folds off a cotton scarf from a stranger’s neck, and then laces it between his fingers. He walks up to Louis, and slicks the scarf around his neck. Then he measures it up so each side is even.

Louis doesn’t mean to, but he takes this time to scale Zayn up and down in the hopes that he wouldn’t catch him. It was long enough for his mind to absorb that yes, he is one fit God. But short enough for Zayn not to notice.

Although he did notice. This put a very evident smile on that very devilish dial of his.

"You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve done this," Zayn whispers into his ear, leaning over Louis’ body like it was the smallest thing he’s ever come across, “and every single time… they’ve _loved_ it."

And with that, Zayn’s hand palms the front of Louis’ jeans, making him wimp. He immediately wishes that he didn’t make that sound, because it seemed to make Zayn even more pleased with himself.

Zayn brushes his fingers along Louis’ body as he walks slowly around the chair once. He starts at his exposed collarbones, then to his left shoulder, to the back of his neck, then to his right shoulder. He connects eyes with Louis, and makes a kissy sound with his lips - which makes Louis flinch his head back and Zayn laugh.

"Don’t be afraid," Zayn whispers in his ear again, sitting himself on top of Louis’ lap, his legs on either side, “I’ve got control."

By this point Louis’ already having trouble breathing. He’s pretty sure his hands have never sweated this much in his life, and Louis couldn’t make a sound even if he tried. His throats choked up, his limbs are frozen, and there’s already a sensation in his pants that give away he’s lost the bet.

But that isn’t good enough for Zayn, so he keeps going and Louis lets him.

And once Zayn’s settled on his lap, his hands are everywhere. Like, _everywhere_. They trail down Louis’ arm, down his back, across his chest, down his stomach towards his jeans. He’s _teasing_ him. Running his fingertips lightly over the zipper, palming him ever so softly which makes Louis only want more.

And he knew he shouldn’t have done it, because as soon as Louis looks into Zayn’s eyes, that’s when he loses it.

All his senses come back and his hands are touching Zayn’s thighs. His throat has cleared and he feels like making sounds but he can’t seem that weak. So he substitutes with deep breathing and that only makes Zayn hungrier for him.

Zayn starts to rock. Not side to side like you rock a baby, not rock and roll, but _rock_. Like grinding back and forth. And it’s enough to make Louis pant.

He forgets he’s in a club, he forgets who’s watching. Because right now all he’s seeing is Zayn, and all Zayn’s seeing is Louis.

He grinds down again and Louis’ head rolls backwards. He’s gripping onto the side of Zayn’s bare thighs but he doesn’t care.

And because Louis’ neck is exposed, and because Zayn wants to win by a mile, he starts to kiss.

He kisses down Louis’ jawline, down his neck, to his collarbones, back up his neck, and Louis just wants him to keep going until Zayn’s kissed every part of his body.

But then Zayn stops completely and hops off. And Louis’ about to frown and ask what’s wrong until a voice that doesn’t come from Zayn says:

"Wow."

And Louis is thrown back into reality, where Harry and Liam are gaping and their eyes look like they’re about to fall out of their heads. Zayn just stands there and points down to Louis’ very noticeable hard cock.

"You owe me ten dollars." He says with a smirk.

 


	5. Pain And Regret

"So…"

"Shut up."

"Zayn just-"

"I said shut _up_."

"I mean that boner, I-"

"Harry!"

He laughs, and Louis huffs. Harry’s at the steering wheel and Louis’ crouched up in the passenger’s seat with his knees up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, his chin resting on his knees and his feet dangling off the edge of the leather seat.

"Sorry, mate." Harry says, still stifling his laugh, “but I hope you know this is gonna be the topic of our conversation for quite some time now."

"It better not be." Louis mumbles into his knee, “I will personally cut you in half if you ever mention it again."

"Jesus, Lou." All signs of humour leaves Harry’s expression and is replaced by shock, “how can you threat me so easily? It’s concerning."

But Louis just shrugs and keeps his eyes out the window. He’d kill anyone if they even make a sound about what happened inside that club. Even if someone says _that_ name, they’ll be some serious skin slicing.

The car falls silent and all that’s heard is the cars on the road and the motor running. Plus the occasional movement from Harry’s behalf, and since Louis wasn’t moving an inch, Harry’s every move became more dominant to both of their ears.

And after a while, Harry broke the tension, “so… can I talk to you at all?"

Louis takes his time to reply, and Harry starts to wonder if he heard him or not, or if he’s just ignoring him.

But Louis finally shakes his head, “not tonight."

So the car ride stays quiet, and Harry drops him home without a word. Louis drags his feet into his front door, down the corridor, and into his room.

He lands face first onto his bed and lets out a muffled scream. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep, since he was already hoping what he’d just experienced was a dream anyway.

-

Days pass with a lot of moping and little study. Louis stays in the same clothes for two days straight and he can tell his mum’s beginning to get worried.

And so she should be, since all Louis is really doing is watching day time TV and only coming out of his room to get food. This is like the time when his girlfriend broke up with him a year ago because she’d ‘found someone better’. Louis didn’t shower for a week after that.

His mum comes into his filthy room when Louis is cocooned in his bed sheets, his head buried into his pillow, with Antique Road show on the television.

He feels the pressure of the bed change, and feels his mums hand rest on his shoulder delicately.

"Louis?"

He groans in response.

"Louis honey, are you okay?" Silence. “Babe, I know break-ups are hard and they aren’t-"

Louis rolls onto his back with a frown to look at her, “who said I was in a break up?"

"Nobody… but I thought since you hadn’t gotten out of bed for three days I just-"

"I’m not… it’s not that." Louis pushes the duvet off his body, then forces his way out of his bed.

When he stretches out, a few of his bones crack and his mum cringes.

"So, are you gonna tell me what’s going on? Or are you just gonna continue feeling sorry for yourself?" His mum asks him, sitting in his bed with a concerning yet powering look in her eye. And if she weren’t sitting, Louis thinks she’d come complete with her hands on her hips and her body weight all on one leg.

Louis sighs, and picks up a towel from over his desk chair. He smells it once, and scrunches up his nose, but flings it over his shoulder anyway.

"It’s really nothing, mum." He says over his shoulder as he walks towards his bathroom, “just teenager stuff."

He’s in the bathroom when he can hear her scoff in disbelief, but he thinks that’ll be enough to let him off the hook for now.

Truth is, Zayn hasn’t left his mind since the moment he met him. Which would be absolutely fine, if Louis was gay and wasn’t upper-class. But he is, and it’s probably illegal for him to even like Zayn in that way.

He’s seen it plenty of times before, the way two men love each other. Harry’s been affectionate with many, many guys in front of him before. He’s seen the way they hold hands, kiss each other, cuddle on the couch and call each other cute names that make Louis want to throw up. It’s not the gay-side that Louis’ afraid of. It’s what Zayn _is_.

Sure, he’s not some homeless man from the side of the street that’s just happened to catch his eye, and he’s not a feral looking drug dealer like those people Louis saw in the backstreets of main road.

But Zayn’s also not a successful student studying something in hopes of getting a well-paid job; he’s a stripper at a filthy club and a coffee maker at the local store. He’s not a boy in a suit with a house and a car to call his own, he’s a boy in revealing costumes who probably lives in a bare apartment somewhere in the lower parts of town, with leaking taps and creaking doors and dogs that live across the road who bark just when you’re about to get to sleep.

And if his mother saw him with someone like that, Louis would be kicked out straight away and he could kiss his well thought out future goodbye.

Louis steps out of the shower and pats down his body with a towel and shakes his head at himself. There’s no way in _hell_ he’d ever make a move on Zayn. Not even if he wanted to, it’s just something that’s never going to happen.

But when Louis gets dressed, Zayn’s face crosses his mind again. But that’s okay, because he can still think about him, right? And as Louis goes to open his bedroom door, his mum is already there with a huge smile on her face that nearly makes Louis fall over in fright.

"We’re going out!"

"What? No, mum, I don’t-"

"Yes, we are." She says excitedly, grabbing his wrist like it’s the most urgent thing ever and pulls him down the corridor, “it’s my little treat, c’mon."

"But mum, I don’t even look-"

"Oh, Louis. You look fine!" She exclaims, nudging him out the front door before Louis can say anything else.

-

Outside the coffee shop, Louis looks at his mum with devastating eyes.

"Mum, no."

"What? Why not? I love this little shop, they make the best coffees."

"Well, did you know that, uh…" Louis racks his brain for a good excuse to _not_ step foot in there, “Women’s Weekly gave a bad review on… it?"

Louis feels like stabbing himself in the eye with a fork numerous times. Honestly, for a boy with a lot of creativity he’s not very bright when it comes to making excuses on the spot.

"Really? Oh," but they’re good enough for his mum. “I’ll have to search that up later… but for now run in there and grab me a cappuccino."

Not good enough, it seems.

"Mum," Louis tries to bargain for another spot but already knows this fight’s over.

"Aw, alright." She digs into her pocket and hands him some more money on top of the ones she’s already given him, “get something for yourself, too."

Louis looks at her for a bit longer, hoping that she’ll decide she doesn’t want one, but instead she leans back into her chair and brings out a magazine from her bag to start flipping through. Louis sighs deeply and purposely slams the door behind him when he gets out.

It could be the coldness of the day, but Louis’ hands are shaking so dramatically he has to pull the sleeves from his hoodie over them. It could also be the endless amounts of nerves and fear that are bubbling and doubling in size inside of him, too.

He tries to push all those feelings down as he takes in a deep breath and opens up the door to the cafe. He keeps his eyes on the floor at all times, hoping and praying with all his heart that Zayn won’t be there ready to serve him.

"Oh babe, we have to stop meeting like this."

_Fuck._

It takes all of his willpower to not look up at that face. He fixes his eyes on a tip jar with a few coins in it and orders.

"One cappuccino." He mumbles, still not looking at the server.

"By the way," Zayn continues, brewing Louis’ mum’s coffee, “I’m having this ‘thing’ and Harry wanted me to invite you, so I’m gonna have to need your number."

This time, Louis actually looks up. And straight away he wished he hadn’t. Because those big brown eyes with those fascinating eyelashes are looking right back at him with a small smile on his lips and his hair done perfectly like always. Louis’ seeing the face that has been on his mind for days on end, and although it’s one that can’t be forgotten, it had faded and the only thing he had remembered were his eyes.

But now, looking at him again, it’s like he never forgot. Because Louis remembers the definition of his cheekbones, the structure of his jawline, the slight stubble around his face and the shape of his lips and how they curve when he smiles. And Louis wants nothing more than to grab the drink and leave.

But he can’t, so he painfully looks Zayn in the eyes and says, “why don’t you just ask Harry for it then?"

And Zayn’s already put the lid on the coffee so before he can function his mouth to say anything more, Louis has already taken it from his hands and given him the correct change, and is now heading out the door.

"If you’re playing hard to get then it’s working!"

Louis rolls his eyes without turning back and silently prays to God that he won’t have to see him again.

-

Louis doesn’t even try to focus on his study, there’s no point since all that’d do is side-track his mind to the one person he regrets meeting.

So he calls Harry up and tells him to drive over if he’s not doing anything else. He hears another voice from Harry’s end, but Louis decides that it might have been his dad, since Harry says okay straight away.

And in fifteen minutes, Harry’s at his doorstep. When Louis opens the door, he’s expecting a huge, inviting grin with open arms and a bear hug that suffocates him. But instead, Harry just walks passed him without making eye contact and his hands in his pocket.

"Harry…" Louis says cautiously, closing the door behind him, “something wrong?"

Harry’s eyes are focused on the floor, he’s frowning and his lips are in the tightest line possible. Louis scans his face with concern, and knows that Harry’s trying to think of something to say but nothing is coming out.

So Louis decides to let it go, because maybe all he needs is a distraction and a pick up.

"You wanna watch a movie? We can watch one of your favourites if you want." Louis’ bouncing on his toes, going into the living room and turning on the television. He realises Harry’s not moving, and goes to join him again, “or we could go out? Have some lunch, go to the park and kick the soccer around… Yeah, let’s go do that I’ll go grab my-"

Louis’ in the middle of walking passed Harry to go get his phone, when he’s stopped abruptly by Harry’s hand on his arm. Louis looks at him and Harry finally looks up at him, too.

"Spoke to Zayn today."

Louis wants to thrash out of his grip and enter his room without another mention of that name, but because Harry’s in the mood he’s in and because Louis’ a great friend, he replies.

"Are you still in contact with that guy?"

Harry’s grip loosens and now he’s really staring into Louis’ eyes, “you really should talk to him, you know."

Louis’ lips form a tight line as he looks Harry up and down once, “I think I’ll pass."

And Louis walks off at that, and hears Harry sigh heavily and follow behind him.

"Well, are you gonna come to my house party tomorrow, at least?" Harry asks at Louis’ doorway, as Louis curls up in his bed sitting upright.

"Another party, Harry? It’s not even your birthday."

Harry frowns as he goes to join him, “I’m starting to think you don’t know me at all."

"I’m just saying, your last party didn’t really go too well for me."

"Okay, yeah, but that’s because there were strippers involved."

Louis raises his eyebrows, “and there won’t be any there tomorrow night?"

Harry crosses his fingers and holds them up, “no strippers."

-

The atmosphere wasn’t any different to every other party Harry’s had in the past, but there’s always one question that always goes through Louis’ mind every time. How the hell does Harry know all these people?

And every time Louis asks him, he always replies with either, “oh, they’re a friend of a friend." Or, “I knew them from way back." Or Louis’ favourite, “they’re my cousin’s friends, or something… I don’t know, but I know I _know_ them from somewhere, promise."

Louis stands next to Harry as they’re both talking to one of Harry’s friends, Josh. He seems nice enough, and has made Louis laugh a few times so naturally Louis has accepted him straight away.

"So, how’s your band holding up?" Harry asks him, taking a sip of whatever mixture of alcohol Niall mixed up for him.

"Pretty slow, we’re getting a few more gigs here and there but nothing too massive." Josh shrugs.

And just when Louis was having a good time, Niall appears.

"Hey! How is everyone?" He grins and puts his arm around Harry’s shoulder, earning a vicious side-eye from Louis.

"Hey, Niall." Harry grins goofily, his body turning limp from the sight of him.

"Not bad, yourself?" Josh asks him, smiling. And Louis wonders why everyone is so nice to him when Louis can’t help but feel annoyed whenever Niall’s around.

"Good, man. Good." He nods his head and his eyes fall on Louis, who’s now avoiding him and looking the opposite direction, “what about you, Tommo?"

“‘M fine." Louis mumbles back, still not looking at him.

"… okay." Niall replies, taking in a breath. “So, Harry, we still going to the game on Monday?"

"Yeah, ‘course."

Louis rolls his eyes and walks inside, ignoring the eyes on the back of his head. He throws his empty can into the rubbish bin and opens up the esky to find a new one.

"Hey."

Louis looks up, and his eyes widen in shock. Taking out the can and shutting the esky quickly, his mind shuffles the options of fight or flight. And he picks flight.

He stands up to flee, but Zayn’s already got a hold of his arm. Louis lets out a gasp and looks at Zayn, who has the deepest sense of plead in his eyes but Louis’ still straining.

"What do you want from me?"

"Settle down, I just want to talk." He’s smiling, but Louis isn’t having a bar of it. Zayn clears his throat and wipes the smile away, “I didn’t mean to like… scare you or anything."

Louis avoids his eyes, “I know."

He feels the grip of his arm loosen and Zayn’s hands drop to his side. He looks down at his feet and Louis suddenly feels overwhelmed. He’s never seen Zayn look this vulnerable before.

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

Louis feels his throat choke up. Zayn’s big, hurt eyes look up at him through his eyelashes and he looks so sad and upset even _Louis_ feels like forgiving and forgetting and maybe even giving him a hug.

But that’s exactly what Louis has been scared of feeling all this time, and knows he has to avoid it.

"I’m not; I’m just not making an effort."

And it takes all of his power to spin on his heel and walk away, yet again.

But he only takes a few steps until somebody else stops him, this time a stranger. She’s blonde, and has a very short skirt on, and by the way she’s stumbling and gripping on to Louis’ clothes, it’s obvious she’s very drunk.

"Hey, you’re cute."

"Wha-"

But before Louis could say anything more, he’s pushed up against a wall and his mouth is covered by this girl’s lips. Her hands are everywhere and her tongue is basically attacking him.

Louis crosses his eyebrows and looks up. His mind suddenly goes fuzzy and his heart falls to his stomach when he locks eyes with Zayn, who’s been standing there and watching him the whole time.


	6. I Could Fuck You Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to say thanks to everyone reading this and leaving comments love you all! :)

It takes one solid push to get the slut away from his face, but she doesn’t seem to mind, since all she does is let out a cheering sound and try to run off with wobbly ankles on to another available boy in her sight.

It takes the same amount of time for Zayn to be by his side again, his expression returned back to the confident and sensible type like before.

"Look, I know you’re not gay, Louis. But maybe we could still be friends?"

It’s not like he’s _begging_ for acceptance, but the pleading in his eyes make it seem like he may as well be on his knees right now with his hands presented in praying form, kissing at Louis’ feet with every touch of need he had. And Louis can’t buy into that, he can’t _let_ himself know that in the back of his mind he wants to be his friend, because he’s been brought up a lot more differently than that.

So Louis looks at those beautiful eyes once more and tries his hardest to look away.

"Zayn, being friends with a stripper might be okay with Harry but it’s… not with me. Sorry."

And it’s almost cliché for Louis to turn around without another word and walk away, and it’s almost cliché for Zayn to stop him by grabbing his arm. But they both follow the all too well known actions.

The only difference is, this time, Zayn’s mad.

His eyes are burning and Louis is sure they’re going right through his skull, enough for Louis’ blood to run cold. And Zayn’s strength on Louis’ arm is so strong, Louis doesn’t know if he’d be able to feel that part of his body ever again.

"That’s not all I am!" Zayn snaps, the anger roaring out of him and into Louis like a steak knife, “Don’t label me as that!"

"Let go of me!"

Never in his life has he been held this heavily before, never been shouted so cruelly at, never been accused for something. He doesn’t know how to react, so he yells back, pleading for freedom.

And like that, Zayn’s grip loosens, his eyes fall and all his power goes with it, his head’s lowering to the ground as his hand slips off Louis’ now numb forearm. But he doesn’t leave it at that, he looks back up once again and his incredibly hurt, brown eyes lock with Louis’ shocked and scared blue ones.

"Don’t judge people before you get to know them, Louis." He says, and then leaves.

And Louis stands there with a pain in his heart he’s never felt before, and wonders if that’s what everyone feels when Louis walks away without letting the other person speak.

He promises himself that he’ll do that less often, because now he’s on the other side of the equation. And it’s a truly horrible feeling.

-

That night, Louis stays with Harry. He fills in what events took place with regret, and Harry pats his back in sympathy.

"He’s pretty touchy when it comes to that."

"His job?" Louis asks him, siting at the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting in his hands gloomily.

"Yeah, his job. How’d you like it if someone you admired didn’t give you five seconds of their time because of what you did for a living?"

"Shit… never thought of it like that." Louis ponders. He frowns when he looks at Harry this time, “he _admires_ me?"

A smile plays on Harry’s lips, “now, now, don’t flatter yourself. The right word was probably interested."

And Louis grins at that, because nobody has ever really found him interesting before. It’s always Harry who people swoon over. He’s always got the newest car, the best parties, the hottest boyfriends, the most entertaining stories… and now, realising that he’s just lost an _admirer_ , Louis feels guiltier than ever.

"C’mon, say sorry to him."

But Louis contemplates in his mind, going up to Zayn face-to-face, and actually apologising to him. He doesn’t know if he could take that rejection from the face that always used to be joyful and excited whenever he saw Louis.

"I can’t."

Harry sighs and stands up from his place next to Louis, “Then stop feeling sorry for yourself."

"… I can’t."

-

Back to square one, and the recognition for the options fight or flight come back into Louis’ mind. And this time, he chooses fight. Because yes, he might be a wealthy boy who doesn’t know any better but to only associate with other people of his status. But Louis isn’t a complete asshole, either.

He walks into town yet again without any socks, and makes yet another mental note to purchase a pair as he accidentally steps in a puddle of rain that soaks through the bottom of his shoe onto his bare foot. He curses once and shakes it a few times, but continues walking until he reaches the one place he’s dreaded entering each time he’s been.

The coffee shop.

He crosses his fingers as he shoves them into the pockets of his jacket, in hope that he’ll see Zayn behind that counter.

But the doors fly open and there’s no sign of the brown-eyed boy anywhere.

With a sigh and a shrug, Louis leaves and contemplates his options.

At 10:00pm, he enters the doors of Zayn’s other job, with more hopes of him appearing somewhere on the stage. But when there’s another unknown male stripper up there, Louis frowns and scans the club for any sign of him.

He spots Liam, and that’s close enough. Louis grins and makes his way over to the bar, fast enough to avoid the vast majority of flirtatious drunk guys who had the tendency to cling to him whenever he went here.

Louis sits down at the stool, waiting for Liam to turn around and recognise him, his big eyes and smile greeting him like he always does. But Liam doesn’t do that. Instead, he sighs loud enough for Louis to hear, and doesn’t bother to glance his way.

"Louis."

"Hey, Liam." He replies cheerfully, hoping to make Liam do the same.

But when he only raises his eyebrows for a split second, Louis quickly gathers that he’s obviously gotten the down-low already from Zayn.

"Is Zayn here?"

The question makes Liam look at him, but only to shake his head, “Not tonight."

Louis groans. _Where the fuck is he?_

"Do you…" Louis clears his throat, his anxiousness must have the better of him, since now his voice is changing pitch. “Do you know where he is?"

But Liam just gives him a quick shrug, and walks off to the other side of the bar.

_Fuck, even Liam hates me now._

Louis slides of his seat begrudgingly and trudges over to the exit with nothing but lost hope.

What did he do, disappear?

-

Harry’s already at home when Louis finds himself at his doorstep once more. It takes longer than usual for Harry to greet him, and Louis can hear mumbled voices from inside the house.

When he opens the door, his hair’s a mess and his top’s inside out. His eyes widen a little in surprise, and he closes the door just that tiny bit more so it’s impossible to see what’s going on inside.

"Louis! Hey!"

"Having fun?" Louis cocks his head to the side and raises a brow, because it doesn’t take a scientist to know that he’s got ‘company.’

"Yeah, I, uh- I was just," he clears his throat once and frowns as he does it. Then he shakes his head and changes the topic, “what’s up?"

Louis hesitates, wondering if he should make a big deal of his newest fuck, or if he should toss it away and tell him what he’s here for. And for now, he takes the second option because his problem is a big deal.

"It’s Zayn; I’ve literally tried looking for him everywhere. You gotta tell me what to do, Harry. This is chewing me up inside worse than I thought."

Harry raises an eyebrow, “is that… sympathy you feel? Oh my God, is Louis Tomlinson feeling sympathy for someone other than himself?"

Louis hits him in the arm and Harry laughs hysterically. Louis’ about to come out with an insult, but the voice from inside catches his ear.

"C’mon babe, what’s taking so long?"

It sounds so familiar, Louis has _definitely_ heard that before.

"Is that-"

"Give him these." Harry acts fast, and plucks out a few flowers from the pot plant next to him and holds in out in front of Louis.

He looks at him strangely, “flowers?"

"Yeah, they’re like… a sign of forgiveness, or whatever."

"Well, in that case," Louis throws the flowers away, “I’ll get a better bunch, thank you."

Harry nods once, “okay, good luck!"

He goes to shut the door but Louis’ quicker than that and puts his foot between the hinge and the crack of the door.

"How am I supposed to know where he is?"

"Fuck," Harry mumbles and searches urgently around the desk next to his front window, then appears again with a slip of paper, “here’s his address."

Louis takes it just as the voice comes back, “Harry, I’m waiting!"

Louis flashes him a look and Harry waves a quick good-bye before shutting the door.

"Well," he mumbles to himself, “that was fast."

He looks down at the slip of paper and bites his lip. He has no idea where Zayn’s address is or what side of town he’s on, but he does know where the nearest florist is.

-

 _So many different fucking flowers,_ Louis thinks as he’s facing bouquets upon bouquets of flowers, all with different names and half of them he can’t even pronounce.

Without a clue, Louis runs a hand through his hair in frustration and presents himself at the front desk. The clerk is a boy that looks around his age, maybe younger. He’s got blonde shaggy hair and eyes that are too focused on his phone to realise Louis’ presence.

Louis coughs once, and the boy’s eyes gaze up slowly until they meet Louis’ and his bored expression doesn’t change. His name tag labels ‘Sam’ and Louis smiles to himself because his boring name matches his boring personality.

"Hi, how can I help you?" He asks, completely monotone.

"Hi, yes, I was just wondering what the best types of flowers were to give somebody to say sorry?"

Sam blinks slowly, and sighs deeply, “sorry, sir, we don’t have any of them."

"Are you sure? I’m positive they’d be _some_ type of flower in this shop that could-"

"Look, princess, I’m only here to get your money, I don’t know shit about flowers." He sits back down on his shitty stool and looks back at his phone.

Meanwhile, Louis is standing there open-mouthed and in shock, “excuse me? Did you just call me princess?"

He nods once, without looking up. “Yeah, deeply sorry about that."

Louis considers picking up the nearest vase and smashing it on this boy’s head, but settles for a more civil approach.

He leans over the small counter and fists the boy’s shirt up near his neck, making his eyes almost fall out of his head in fear. Louis pulls him closer until their foreheads touch, and looks at him so fiercely he swears he can feel Sam’s body shake under his touch.

"Look, mate, you might think your job is nothing, and you can just sit back and relax on your shitty little first generation phone and treat your customers with no respect and think that you can get away with it, but you can’t, especially not with me. Now, I don’t appreciate the name-calling and the sarcasm you’re giving, so I might just have to ring up the owners of this place and-"

Sam’s eyes widen even more in shock and his trembling head shakes furiously in response to Louis’ threat.

"Good. Now, you’re gonna find me some _really_ nice flowers from this place, and you’re also gonna tell me directions to this address," Louis slams down the piece of paper on the counter and tightens his grip on his shirt, “you got that?"

The boy nods a thousand times, and Louis loosens his hold, making the clerk alert as he falls back down on the other side of the counter and almost runs away towards the prettiest collection of violets and roses.

Louis nods and smiles successfully to himself and waits until the boy comes back with a bouquet in his trembling hand. Louis gives his approval, and Sam literally exhales with relief. He then lets Louis pay, and grabs an old envelope to write down the directions to Zayn’s house.

"Thank-you," Louis says, “And if you keep that kind of customer service, maybe I’ll even give you a promotion. Now what do you tell me after I pay?"

He fumbles his words for a second, and then spits it all out at once, “have a nice day!"

Louis laughs to himself, “very good."

He leaves the store with a bunch of flowers in one hand, and an envelope in the other. He follows the directions carefully, and lucky for him, it’s only a few streets away until he’s at Zayn’s.

Of course, it’s not as big as Louis’ house, and there’s no garage or car, but there is a whopper of a drive-way, and Louis’ dreading it.

"He better be home." He mumbles to himself as he’s half-way up, feeling the burn in his calves he feels like giving up now. But the scenario of seeing Zayn’s face light up once he apologises seems to be the only thing that’s making him keep walking. Which is a strange thought.

He finally ends up at Zayn’s door, and after he catches his breath and fixes his hair up as best he could, he rings the doorbell.

The only time Louis’ ever felt this nervous is when he had to meet up with a blind date that Harry had set up for him in high school. It didn’t go as bad as he’d been fretting, and they actually went out a few times after that, but that’s not the point.

Louis hears footsteps coming closer, and suddenly he’s having doubts of doing this. He considers throwing away the flowers, _"what a stupid idea, he’s just gonna throw them out anyway”_ , and he also considers running away behind a bush or something.

But before he can even act on either of those, the door opens and Zayn’s standing there.

He feels his pumping heart fall to his toes and he’s sure his entire body has gone numb. He takes one look at Zayn and his mind goes funny and the speech that he’s practiced thousands of times suddenly disappears and all he can come out with is:

"Hi."

Zayn breaks into a smile, “Hi."

They look at each other after that, and Louis feels himself _smiling_ at him. If Harry was here, he’d say they were sharing a ‘moment’.

Louis blinks out of it immediately as that thought comes to mind, and diverts his attention to the flowers in his hands, “I, uh, bought you these because they’re, apparently, a sign of forgiveness… or something? I don’t know, I’m sorry, this was stupid. I should go…"

But Zayn takes the bouquet from his hands and lays them on the table beside him, then grips the front of Louis’ shirt like Louis did with the boy.

Louis’ eyes fly wide as he feels Zayn pulling him closer. Is he going to threaten him? Tell him what he did was unforgivable? That flowers don’t do anything for him and his apology was declined?

Louis feels his breath shake as his forehead touches Zayn’s, and in a moment of confusion, Zayn doesn’t do anything like he’d thought. He does the complete opposite, the completely unexpected.

He kisses him.

 


	7. You Could Have It All

It’s like all the blood has rushed up into Louis’ lips, and suddenly their moving together like he knows how. There’s a tingling sensation on his hip when he feels Zayn’s hand touch it to bring him closer, and Louis feels like melting into his arms and staying there.

And Louis has to stop, and pull apart for a few seconds to re-evaluate that yes, it’s Zayn.

"You kissed me." Louis says in confusion.

"I did." Zayn confirms, with his hand still placed on Louis’ hip.

Louis’ lips form into a curve and his head dips in to kiss him again. This one has more force behind it, since the last time completely caught Louis off guard, in his defence.

Zayn presses down eagerly into him, and all too soon Louis can feel his tongue against his own cheek and Louis suddenly feels the need to be closer to him.

It takes another one of Zayn’s hands gripping on the other side of Louis’ hip to realise that Louis’ lacking extremely with his hand movements. He thinks fast and brings both up and around Zayn’s neck, where they then lace into Zayn’s hair.

This seems to prompt him, because from that short movement, Zayn’s hands find their way onto Louis’ ass.

And if Louis wasn’t paying attention, he would’ve missed the short moan that vibrated silently out of Zayn’s mouth.

He steps backwards and Louis follows until they’re in Zayn’s place, and he doesn’t hesitate a moment because once they stop, Zayn hitches Louis up onto his hips, and Louis’ forced to wrap his legs around Zayn’s waist.

And Louis has to take a moment because, oh my _God_ he’s strong.

Zayn starts to kiss Louis’ jawline which makes Louis flashback to the club and the strips dance he remembers all too well. But this time, Louis takes extra caution down there, because if he pops up too soon that might be embarrassing.

So he takes control instead, since the kissing of the neck is only making it harder for Louis to keep his cool. He kisses his way down Zayn’s magnificent jawline, and sucks and licks a tender spot on his neck, which makes Zayn rolls his head back and press Louis up against the wall even harder.

It’s when Louis’ lips reach Zayn’s collarbone that Zayn can’t take it anymore. He lifts Louis’ chin up and kisses tenderly against his lips, and soon they’re making out and it’s getting so hot the only thing stopping Louis from taking his clothes off is the fact that Zayn isn’t doing it for him.

"Never thought you’d come around." Zayn’s voice is so close and deep in Louis’ ear, he has to close his mouth tightly in case a sound of his own comes out.

Louis kisses him once more, “Neither did I."

Zayn’s gripping onto the bottom of Louis’ thighs so tightly, and Louis doesn’t think there’s any more room left between his legs and Zayn’s body. And just as that thought crosses his mind, Zayn’s rolls his hips into him ever so gently - but it’s enough for Louis to want to scream.

"God _damn_ , Louis," Zayn growls, his two hands taking a hold of Louis’ ass, his fingers digging into his denim, “these jeans are so fucking _tight._ "

Louis can feel the hairs on his skin rise as soon as Zayn curses, there’s something about the way it comes out of his mouth that does something to him. His head lolls backwards onto the wall and Zayn uses this opportunity to attack him with love bites again.

"Zayn," Louis’ voice is weak now, his name coming out as only air.

"Mm?"

Louis grabs a chunk of Zayn’s hair and pulls him back so he can see him, “Lay me down."

There’s a sense of need and want that fills Zayn’s eyes as soon as those words come out of Louis’ mouth. Zayn acts too quickly for Louis to even comprehend, and soon enough Zayn’s lying him down on a nearby couch that’s big enough for the both of them.

Zayn fits in between Louis’ legs and he’s knelt up and Louis lies down and watches him. Zayn takes off his top so swiftly, and Louis doesn’t know if that was supposed to be seductive or if that’s really how Zayn undresses himself. And he has to hold his mouth close in case it falls open from the sight of Zayn’s body in this light.

Because sure, he’s seen it many times before on stage and whatever, but that’s all dark and flashing lights and smoky surroundings. But here, now, Louis’ admiring what the Romans would call a God. He’s so close, Louis can reach out and touch those arms, his chest, his ripped stomach and v-line, and Louis doesn’t realise he’s gawking until Zayn lets out an adorable laugh and kisses his mouth shut.

Now his hands are somewhere other than his ass, they’re down his shoulders, his arms, over his shirt, then under it, and now he’s feeling over every part of his upper body as he keeps kissing him; and bit by bit Zayn’s hands keep wondering over Louis’ body curiously.

Then Zayn’s finger fiddles with the bottom hem of Louis’ shirt, and takes a hold of it as he begins to pull it up towards Louis’ head. Louis puts his arms up and Zayn takes it off carefully, so much more delicately than his own.

And the feeling of Zayn’s skin against his own is what makes Louis nearly cry with satisfaction. The friction of their jeans as they rub together so forcefully almost with every kiss and everything to do with _Zayn_ has Louis panting again and again into Zayn’s mouth.

He’s not even dancing around Louis or putting on a show for him this time, but Zayn begins to take off his own pants anyway. And even without the seductive stripping and movements, Zayn’s still the best act he’s seen in his life.

Zayn’s jeans end up on the floor beside them, and it kind of makes Louis nervous because he knows his pair of denim is to go next. But Zayn doesn’t rush into it, he likes to tease him.

He kisses Louis hot on the mouth twice, as his fingers feel over the top part of Louis’ jeans. He then kisses down his neck, his fingers now going underneath and lets one finger brush across the top of Louis’ waistband. His lips go down to his collarbones and now Zayn’s hand is on top of Louis’ crouch, palming so, so delicately it makes Louis groan.

Zayn takes the sound as an entrance pass, and brushes his finger over Louis’ zipper, hard enough so he can feel it through his jeans. He knows he has a boner; it’s been there ever since Zayn took his goddamn shirt off, and he’s super sure Zayn could feel it against his thigh the entire time.

Louis sucks in a breath as soon as Zayn unbuttons and zips down his jeans, and takes Louis out from underneath his underwear. He sees Zayn smirk up at him, and Louis can’t even take it anymore with that half-smile because _fuck_.

Zayn trails his finger down the middle of Louis’ chest, down his stomach, to his hips, and is completely aware of how much Louis is trembling from his touch. And without warning, he opens his hand and takes a hold of Louis’ base, making Louis grip onto the sofa urgently.

Zayn pumps him once, twice, and brushes his thumb over the tip of Louis’ cock, and watches as Louis squirms underneath him.

Louis has to close his eyes for a second to adjust, but as soon as he does he wishes he didn’t. Because he was completely unprepared for Zayn’s hot breath and warm mouth that is now enveloped over his penis, his mouth going up and down as his hand still remains at the base.

Louis can feel himself buckling the third time Zayn’s head goes down, but it’s not until he can feel Zayn’s tongue brush up against his cock when Louis lets out a moan. Zayn moans, too, and it’s the vibrations that send Louis over the edge. His hips are buckling and he’s mumbling Zayn’s name over and over again.

Zayn’s hand pumps in the same motion of his mouth and Louis’ voice gets louder and louder and he’s almost _screaming_ Zayn’s name as he reaches. Louis holds his breath as he explodes into Zayn’s mouth, and exhales deeply, his back sinking into the couch.

Zayn wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then uses the same one to jack himself off quickly, ejaculating onto Louis’ chest. He grabs a few tissues from behind him and cleans it up as he presses kisses to Louis’ jawline lazily.

Picking up the dirty tissues, he walks over to what Louis thinks might be the kitchen.

"You hungry?" He calls from the next room.

And Louis lies there with wonderment still in his eyes and shaky breaths still coming out of his mouth. And he has to smile at himself as he looks up at the ceiling because, _wow, what have I gotten myself into?_

-

Louis makes an appearance at Harry’s doorstep an hour later, because he knows Harry would absolutely kill him if he doesn’t tell him what happened with Zayn straight away.

But it’s just like last time, there are other voices coming from inside but there’s no extra car in the drive-way. Louis hears a loud banging sound coming from the living room and tries to peer into the window.

He turns the doorknob and turns his head to one side when he finds it unlocked. He opens it slowly since the voices have stopped talking and replaced by something else.

Stepping into Harry’s living room, Louis immediately wishes he hadn’t, because on the floor is Harry and on top of him is someone Louis really didn’t need to see like that.

Harry’s kissing the blonde’s neck, then his lips, and the body on top of him has his fingers tangled into Harry’s curls, and Louis wants to vomit when he realises who Harry’s making out with.

"…Harry?"

Harry stops kissing the Irish bloke and looks up to where Louis is staring, eyebrows crossed and confused. His face falls and he becomes alert straight away, then attempts to act fast.

"Shit!" He throws Niall off of him and stands up, well, tries to stand up, “Louis, Louis-"

"Yeah, okay, good-bye." Louis shakes his head at him and begins to walk to the exit, hearing Harry stumbling after him.

He takes one last look at Niall before he turns around, and he just sits where Harry threw him, wiping his mouth lazily and looking un-fazed as always. Louis lets out a disgusted sound and turns towards Harry’s front door.

"No, Louis! I was gonna tell you, I swear!" Harry shouts after him, but Louis just shuts the door on him and begins to walk home.

"Harry and _Niall_? Jesus Christ." Louis says to himself as he kicks a rock as he walks, “they’ve probably been fucking this whole time and I haven’t even known."

He kicks it harder, and it smashes against a nearby tree, shattering everywhere over the pavement.

" _I was gonna tell you_ , yeah, when? When you’re married?" Louis shakes his head, unsure of what he’s feeling right now.

Disappointment? Betrayal? He doesn’t know, maybe he’s just grumpy. Because the sun’s about to fade down and it’s not until Louis reaches back to the main road when he realises how tired he’s become. Being on your feet all day really does take a lot out of you.

He thinks about turning down the left side of the road to go back home, but he honestly cannot deal with the questions and the hassling of his mum since he’s been out all day.

So he turns up the right street, making his way back to Zayn’s. The only problem with that, though, is the terror of the steepest drive-way of all time. He considers crawling on his hands and knees once he steps onto it, remembering how much of a struggle it was the first time.

But then he decides the quicker it’s done the less it’ll hurt, so his pace becomes into a run and suddenly he’s sprinting up the cemented hill in what Louis thinks might be a record speed.

Zayn opens the door to a very flustered, puffed-out Louis, and laughs at the state he’s in.

"Nice work out?"

"That drive-way is a killer." Louis says in between breaths.

"No kidding, that’s why I never walk up it."

"What?" Louis’ sure he’s about to pass out.

Zayn laughs, “I just park my car in the garage and enter through there. I can’t believe you actually _ran_ that."

Louis groans, “Ugh, neither can I."

He collapses into Zayn’s arms as Zayn laughs into his neck. “Okay, let’s get you ready for bed.

Louis hums happily into Zayn’s chest and Zayn helps him into his house as he shuts the door behind him.

 


	8. Nothing's Your Fault

Zayn makes them both a cup of tea as Louis sits down at the table in the kitchen. He gazes out the window that leads on to a small porch, which has endless amounts of pot plants and garden beds, and Louis almost feels useless for bringing him even more flowers.

A cup of tea is placed in front of him on the table, and Louis automatically wraps his hands around it delicately, and slips his thumb in the handle. He hadn’t realised how cold he actually was.

Zayn sits down on the opposite side and Louis notices the way Zayn looks out the window for a few seconds, making sure all of his plants that he without a doubt grew himself were still alive. With a curt nod and a tiny smile of reassurance, he sits back down and takes a sip of his black tea.

"So you live here by yourself?" Louis asks him, trying to take a sip of his own but failing since the hot temperature is way too painful for his delicate tongue.

"Well, yeah," Zayn replies, “Liam used to live with me but he’s like engaged or something now, so."

Louis raises his eyebrows at that, because Liam definitely doesn’t seem like the type of boy to get engaged, and he even looks younger than Louis, and he can’t even imagine the thought of being tied down with someone at this age.

"Liam’s not very fond of me right now." Louis admits, tracing his thumb around the rim of the cup in his hands.

"Hm? Why’s that?"

Louis lets out a shaky, bashful laugh, “I think it might have to do with what I… said to you."

Zayn clicks on straight away and Louis cringes when he thinks back to the hurt in Zayn’s eyes that night. He could actually punch himself in the head for being such a douche to him.

"That’d do it, Liam’s… very protective." Zayn states, his cheekbones rising as he smiles, “but don’t worry, I’ll tell him we’re on good terms now. So he won’t want to cave your head in anymore."

"Oh." Louis replies, his body tensing up when he imagines Liam’s massive build and his killer punch straight into his jaw.

But Zayn laughs and Louis snaps out of his imagination, “I’m joking! Liam could never punch you, he’s the type of person that’d probably save a fucking _insect_ if it were about to get hit."

"Oh," Louis repeats, and then laughs to himself in relief, “thank God."

They finish their cups of tea just as the sky turns dark, and the first star appears when they’re lying in Zayn’s bed. Louis’ snuggled up against Zayn’s chest as the T.V’s playing some sitcom none of them are really watching. Zayn’s playing with a loose strand on Louis’ baggy t-shirt that he borrowed from Zayn’s wardrobe, and Louis’ tracing his finger over the lines of Zayn’s hand.

"Doesn’t it get lonely?"

Louis looks up at Zayn as he waits for a reply. He can see him think about it, his eyes wonder around the room until they settle on Louis. He smiles, brings Louis in closer and says:

"Not anymore."

-

The next day Louis wakes up curled next to Zayn’s body, he presses his lips to his jaw and admires how peaceful he looks when he’s asleep. It’s strange to think that about 3 days ago Louis felt completely obliged to being near this boy, and now he’s in the same bed as him, watching in awe the way his chest rises and falls with each breath.

He doesn’t want to wake him up, so he moves ever so slowly out of bed, making sure he doesn’t nudge him or shake him at all once he gets up. He lays the duvet over Zayn’s body again and before deciding that’s enough and he should probably stop acting like he’s his boyfriend.

But when Louis gets into the shower, he can’t stop thinking about _where_ they stand. Are they together? Are they just seeing each other… but not really? Is this just a fling? Is Zayn going to wake up and ask for his well-deserved money?

 _No_ , Louis shuns himself for thinking that way, _No, this is real, he’s not a fucking prostitute_.

And when he steps out of the shower he reconsiders punching himself yet again; once for making Zayn feel like shit, and another for thinking so badly of him.

He grabs a towel and pats himself down, then gets dressed and walks to Zayn’s door whilst towel drying his hair. He sees Zayn look longingly at the side Louis slept on, and Louis’ just glad to see him awake.

"Morning," Louis greets.

Zayn eyes find his and his face lights up immediately, “Oh, thank God."

"What?"

"I thought you left."

Louis smiles, and sits down on the bed beside him, taking his hands into his own.

"Why would I leave?" Louis asks him, brushing away a piece of hair that’s fallen onto his face.

Zayn’s eyes fall to his hands, and when he looks back up, they’re filled with a kind of emotion Louis can’t describe.

"Everyone does."

He shrugs, making it seem like it doesn’t really affect him. But Louis squeezes his hand anyway, because he knows what it feels like to be lonely.

A kiss on the forehead and Louis gets up again, on a mission to make Zayn feel better. “You want some breakfast?"

And Zayn replies, but his voice is suddenly tuned out as soon as something catches Louis’ eye.

They’re covered by something, but Louis can recognise that bolded font anywhere. He crouches down to reach the basket underneath Zayn’s bedside table and pulls it out, his eyes widening and his smile turning into a grin with excitement.

"Wow," he breathes, taking out one of the many comic books stashed away in there, “I miss these."

Zayn scoots to the edge of the bed and picks up one with Spider-Man on the cover and brushes off the excess dust, “People say they’re for kids but I wouldn’t trade them for anything."

Louis flicks through the Batman comic he first picked up as he thinks back to how his own books got misplaced. He sighs to himself when he remembers, and shakes his head as he recalls it.

“Mum threw mine out when I was eleven."

Louis can feel Zayn’s eyes on him as he continues to skim through the greatest adventures of Batman, and with a touch of sympathy Zayn adds:

"Well, you can borrow these whenever you like."

So, instead of breakfast Zayn and Louis spent the morning and afternoon looking at the comic books of their favourite superheroes and reminiscing their childhoods together. Occasionally Zayn would nudge Louis as they laid down next to each other, his shoulder colliding gently into Louis’, saying “Pow!" as he did so.

And Louis would smile back, and pretend to punch Zayn in the cheek with a “Bam!" and they’d laugh; because it really had felt like they never grew up.

Two in the afternoon, and Louis says that he just has to cook Zayn at least _something_ to say thanks for letting him stay the night. And after a lot of no’s and let’s go out for lunch instead’s, Zayn finally caves in and Louis prepares a meal for two as Zayn takes his own shower.

After a lot of searching, Louis eventually finds where the bread and plates are located and lays them out on the kitchen bench. He opens up every drawer he can find, but it’s the last one where he finds a knife and a spatula. Then he opens the fridge, to expose nothing but beer, milk, cheese, butter, juice, and more beer. And Louis makes a mental note to go grocery shopping for him today.

But then his mind backtracks a little bit because, _Goddammit, I’m not his boyfriend_. So Louis just takes out the butter and cheese and spreads the butter onto the bread evenly, then slices the cheese and lays that down, too.

He’s flipping their grilled cheese sandwiches when he feels a violent poke on either side of his stomach. He jumps and yelps with a fright.

To which Zayn just smiles and says, “Zap!" and Louis wants to slap him as much as he wants to bury him in kisses.

He flips the sandwiches once more and tosses them onto two plates, then turns off the gas on the oven. He spots Zayn pouring two glasses of juice on the opposite side of the kitchen with his back facing towards Louis, and he sees this as the perfect opportunity.

He creeps up behind him as lightly as possible, making sure the floorboards don’t creak underneath him. He sticks out one finger on each hand and raises them above Zayn’s hips.

"Zap!" Louis says, poking him the same way Zayn did Louis.

And he startles, but quickly recovers and turns around with a devilish smirk. “Oh, it’s on."

He chases Louis around the kitchen, then around the dining table, as Louis laughs uncontrollably and tries to get away as though his life depends on it. But the laughter’s getting the better of him and he can’t stay standing for too long. He collapses on the ground in a fit of giggles and Zayn crouches over him, pinning his arms above his head.

"Zap! Zap! Zap!" Zayn repeats over and over, each time his finger pokes Louis’ middle, “Zap! Zap! Zap!"

And Louis’ laughing so hard he can’t even breathe anymore, and Zayn’s tickling him non-stop Louis doesn’t know whether to yell at him or get him back.

"Stop, stop!" Louis pleads in between fits of laughter, he’s clutching onto his stomach so hard since he thinks he might’ve worked up a six pack from laughing so goddamn much.

Zayn laughs as he gets up off him and helps Louis up from the ground, “I win."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Louis rolls his eyes with a smile, “our food’s cold now."

Zayn shrugs once, “Zap!"

"Ah!"

-

Louis returns home that night, and surprisingly finds his mum’s car already in the drive-way.

"Do you want me to walk you in?" Zayn asks him from the driver’s seat.

Louis shakes his head straight away, “no, no, it’s okay. If she sees me with someone new she’ll ask a thousand questions and she always sees straight through my lies so-"

"Wait, why do you have to lie?" Zayn’s eyes are slightly squinty from his frown, and Louis wants to stab himself.

"Zayn, it’s… confusing. My mum she’s…" Louis shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, “basically, if I’m not, you know, _with_ someone who’s like a doctor or something she won’t-"

"Accept it." Zayn completes for him, nodding, “I get it."

Louis pulls a sad face and folds his bottom lip, “yeah."

Zayn brings him into his chest and kisses his forehead once. Louis lifts up his head and lips are pressed to his own before they share their good-bye’s.

He opens up the front door as soon as Zayn’s car turns down the road. He steps inside and can hear his mum’s voice down the hall.

"Louis? Louis darling, is that you?"

"Yeah, mum."

She makes an appearance and brings Louis in for a one armed hug and a light kiss on the cheek.

"Where’ve you been? You haven’t been home for a long time, you know."

"It hasn’t been _that_ long."

She gives him a look and ushers him down the hall, “well you can’t blame a mum for missing her baby now, can you?"

"Guess not," Louis mumbles under his breath.

His mum scoots down the hallway, “I’m cooking your favourite for dinner, you excited?"

"Thrilled." Louis replies back, escaping into his room and falling on his bed straight away.

Truth is, she doesn’t know what his favourite is. She’s always cooking something hoping that Louis will like it. And of course, Louis smiles politely with every mouthful he’s given and congratulates her on her effort, because after all, that’s how he’s been brought up.

He can smell the scent of pork chops from his room, _again_. And Louis has to refrain himself from yelling out, “would it kill you to order a pizza once in your life?" But Louis knows his mum, and he knows she will never be caught getting take-away ever. Because she’s all proper and top class meals and home cooked specialties that really aren’t that great.

So when he hears the calls of “dinner’s ready!" he opens the door and enters the kitchen with a forced smile and a fake “mm, that smells good, mum!" when really he’s actually just dying for a good, greasy pizza.

They sit down and she waits for Louis to take the first bite. It’s all rubbery and chewy in the wrong places, but he swallows it all the same and gives her the smile and nod of approval. She smiles happily and digs into her own.

"Can you pass the peas?" She asks him, still with a mouthful of pork. She may appear classy, but eating is definitely not one of her best moments.

He picks up the bowl and hands it over, “hey, mum?"

She hums in response as she takes the bowl and scoops up a whole lot of peas and dunks them onto her plate triumphantly.

"You know how you’re always saying that I should be with people who have a lot of money and people who have high ambitions and-"

"Yes darling, always aim for the best."

Louis takes in a deep breath and fiddles with the food on his plate with the fork. He refuses to look up at her as he says, “Well, what if I came home one day with somebody not as lucky and wealthy as us?"

She laughs, takes a sip of water, and shakes her head. “That’ll never happen."

"And why not?"

She sighs heavily and looks Louis dead in the eye, “because, Louis. We’ve been over this many times before, and we both know that in order to be the best we have to surround ourselves with the best. Don’t you know that?"

She continues to eat as Louis’ eye twitches and he swallows harshly. “What if I loved them?"

Of course, Louis doesn’t _love_ Zayn, but he wants to see her argument for that one. He wants to see her cave in, make her see that the mask she’s put on and this ‘too good’ act she’s faking has finally run its course.

She drops her fork and leans in, her eyes making it very clear she does not want to have this conversation. But Louis stands up for himself and leans in, too, making her know that he’s ready for whatever she’s about to throw at him.

"Look, Louis, love doesn’t exist." She states blankly, and her lip twitches a little, “It didn’t exist for me and your father, and it doesn’t exist for anyone. But I married him. Because he gave us this big house and he gave me you, bottom line, money is all you need."

"That’s bullshit, mum!" Louis snaps, purely sick of the constant lies that fly out of her mouth so flippantly and frequently. He stands up out of his chair, making his mum look at him completely gobsmacked. “Where is he now? Where’s my dad, mum? Why did he run away? I bet if you loved him, if you worked things out, he would’ve stayed!"

There’s a tear in her eye now, and Louis doesn’t know whether it’s because he swore at her, or shouted at her, or even maybe because he brought up her ex-husband.

She fiddles with her glass, swishing the water around as it goes. And she sits there in silence for a while, blinking harder and harder away the new liquid in her eyes. She clears her throat once and her eyes flicker up to Louis, but not for long.

"You’re grounded."

"What?" This time, Louis’ the one looking gobsmacked.

"I said you’re grounded," she says, standing up and packing away both of their unfinished dinners, “you’re grounded until I say you’re not."

-

Louis sits in his room literally twiddling his thumbs because he’s done all the study that he needs and now he’s completely bored out of his brains. He didn’t realise how entertaining Harry made his life, sitting there now knowing that he can’t call him up is what backlashes him.

And he can’t call Zayn, because he’s out working right now. He’s got nobody to talk to, not even his own mum.

He lays on his bed, eyes on the ceiling as he thinks back to seeing Harry and Niall on the floor of Harry’s living room, and the sinking feeling he got in his chest when he saw it.

And it’s as though Harry has a sixth sense, because Louis’ phone starts buzzing with his caller ID.

"Harry, I’m not in the mood."

He brings the phone away from his ear to press end call, but can’t ignore the desperate cries of Harry from the other line.

"No, no, no, wait! Just hear me out, please." He sighs, and Louis can literally hear him thinking over the phone. “I’ll be at your doorstep in ten."

"No wait! You can’t - I’m grounded."

"Please, Louis. Don’t hang that shit on me, it’ll be a piece of cake your mum _loves_ me."

And with that Harry hangs up. And there’s no point calling back and explaining the situation, because once Harry’s on a mission it’s extremely hard for him to back out of it. So Louis just falls back onto his bed and shuts his eyes and waits.

It’s probably exactly ten minutes until there’s a knock on the door. And Louis can hear his mum huff down the hallway mumbling angry nothing’s like, “who the hell could that be?"

But of course, her whole being completely changes as soon as she opens the door to a guaranteed beaming Harry. Louis can see his smile and the way his mum melts at Harry’s presence in his head as he lays there.

"Harry! Hi, I wasn’t expecting you tonight." She exclaims, a smile in her voice.

"Sorry, Mrs Tomlinson for the inconvenience, but is it okay to return something to your son? He left it at mine yesterday and I only remembered then."

Louis wants to vomit at how classy and professional he sounds, but he also wants to pat Harry on the back and maybe even give him an Oscar for his excellent acting skills.

His mum absolutely coos at the sight of Harry, “of course, Harry! He’s actually grounded at the moment, but you’re always welcome here."

"Thank-you," he replies and Louis can hear him walk down towards his room.

Louis stays put and continues to lay there with his eyes closed when Harry opens his door. Louis opens one eye slightly, and then shuts it again without a response.

"So I know you hate me and whatever but you gotta hear me out," Harry waits for a reaction but Louis refuses to give him one. “Me and Niall-"

"Niall and I." Louis corrects without a blink, and Harry can only laugh.

" _Niall and I_ only started seeing each other the other night at my party. And I’m being completely honest with you right now. It was really sudden and I swore I was gonna tell you but I never came around to it, and I never really knew how to say it. To be honest, I didn’t even think it was gonna be a reoccurring thing until two days ago. Okay?"

"Okay." Louis says, his eyes still closed and his entire body not moving an inch. “But I still hate him."

Harry laughs again, and lies down next to him on the bed. “Wow, Louis, I never knew you to be this forgiving."

And that’s what breaks Louis into a smile, his eyes opening and crinkling as he does so. “Well, I’ve kind of been keeping my own secret from you so I-"

"What secret?"

Harry suddenly becomes alarmed, his eyes burning with concern right through Louis’ skull.

"This is actually the reason why I showed up to your door that night, to tell you it." He begins, and takes in a soothing breath, “so basically… I took your idea, bought him flowers, showed up at his door, said sorry, he kissed me, I stayed at his house, made him lunch, he-"

"WHAT?!"

Harry’s eyes are the widest Louis’ ever seen them. His on he’s knees now, literally almost jumping on top of Louis.

"I was gonna tell you but then-"

"You _kissed?!_ And I missed it? Damn it!" He falls back onto the bed and his hands fall on his face, “and you _slept_ at his house? Fuck, I’ve missed a shit load."

"Yeah, you really have. And-"

"Wait! Don’t tell me, this is why you’re grounded, right?"

"How the fu-"

"Because you brought up the fact that she doesn’t like middle-classed citizens but oh, Zayn’s so amazing and-"

"Uh, shut up? She doesn’t know about him yet."

Harry sits up, “are you ever gonna tell her?"

But Louis just shrugs, “I don’t know where me and Zayn are headed to be honest."’

"Zayn and I." Harry corrects.

And Louis rolls his eyes and throws a pillow at him hard enough for Harry to groan in pretend pain.

 


	9. I Got Everything You Want

Harry ends up staying over that night, and it partially has to do with the fact that Louis was subtly begging him to stay so he didn’t get too lonely. And of course Harry stays; he sleeps in the same bed as Louis like they used to when they were kids, but it’s not as simple as that anymore. Since Harry’s grown about six feet and takes all the blankets which makes Louis wake up in the middle of the night half off the bed with Harry spread eagle diagonally across the mattress.

In what feels like the morning, there’s a buzzing sensation from underneath Harry’s pillow, and since he’s far from awake anytime soon, Louis reaches under Harry’s sleepy head and answers the phone without looking at the screen.

"Hello?"

"Harr- oh," there’s a pause for a second, then in an unsure tone, “Louis?"

The way he says his name makes it obvious that it’s Niall.

"Hey." Louis replies.

"Hey, uh, where’s Harry?"

"Sleeping."

"Oh, well - uh," Louis can literally hear the awkwardness seeping out into his words over the phone, “could you tell him to ring me back when he wakes?"

"Sure."

"OK, tha-"

Louis hangs up the phone and places it back underneath Harry’s pillow. He stretches out his arms and back with a yawn, and estimates how long it will take for Harry to wake up.

He checks the clock to find that it’s already noon and Louis’ eyes widen, wondering what time they actually got to sleep last night. He knows they stayed up for a while just talking about everything, since Harry felt so out of the loop, but of course whenever they talk it feels like time doesn’t exist. For all they know they probably hit the sack at three in the morning.

Louis makes his way out of bed, not caring if he wakes his best mate up - which he does, anyway.

Harry stirs, then groans, then stirs again and eventually peeks out of one eye towards Louis.

"You’re up already?" He croaks, his morning voice being deeper and huskier than normal.

"It’s noon." Louis remarks, taking out some jeans and a top from his wardrobe, “And Niall rang, wants you to call him back."

Harry nods in response, before yawning and rubbing his eyes tiredly. He dials in Niall’s number on his phone as Louis enters the bathroom and turns on the shower straight away, keen to wash himself since sleeping in has made him feel like an absolute slob.

By the time he’s out and walks back into his room, he finds Harry out of bed, already dressed.

"Going somewhere?" Louis asks him.

There’s no way Harry would be out of bed, let alone clothed, if there wasn’t somewhere he has to be.

"Yep," Harry nods excitedly, “and you are too."

"No I’m not, I’m grounded, remember?"

"You’re also twenty-one." Harry comments, raising a brow. “And your mum’s not home on Thursday’s anyway, remember?"

"Those facts are both true." Louis considers, pointing his finger knowingly in Harry’s direction. “Where are we going?"

-

They pull up to Zayn’s house, and luckily for the car, Harry can drive all the way up near the door, which saves Louis from hiking it for the third time in his life. He can feel his legs thanking him once he reaches Zayn’s doorstep without the aching and soreness from his thighs and calves.

Harry knocks a few times, but there’s no answer. Louis tries the door handle - and sure enough, it’s already unlocked.

They swing it open and can hear laughter and music playing in the other room, the same room with the couch that Louis remembers all too well. He feels a sense of weirdness when he finds not him and Zayn, but Niall and Liam on that couch.

They’re playing a game on the television, and just as Harry and Louis enter, it looks as though Niall’s beaten Liam. He almost throws his controller onto the table and leans back with a frustrated grunt as Niall cheers in victory.

"Liam?" Louis walks over to him, unsure of how this will go since the last time they saw each other they weren’t really on good terms.

But he thinks back to what Zayn told him, that Liam couldn’t even hurt anyone even if he tried.

And the way Liam’s bright eyes and smile lit up his face seemed to make Louis believe Zayn even more.

"Hey! How’s it going?" Liam holds out his palm and Louis slaps into it, shaking his hand once.

He looks curiously between Niall and Liam and frowns slightly, “I didn’t know… you two were friends?"

"Oh, yeah, well, we kind of only know each other through Zayn." Liam tells him, then slaps Niall’s knee, who’s too busy talking and staring into Harry’s eyes to notice. “But Niall here is a great guy, so it wasn’t that hard to hit it off."

_Of course he is,_ Louis thinks gloomily to himself, still unable to grasp how on Earth everyone loves Niall except for him.

"Hey, where is Zayn?"

Louis thought he’d be in the kitchen or in his room when Louis and Harry arrived, but surely he’d be back by now.

"He’s in the van." Niall suddenly responds, instead of Liam.

Louis looks at him once, and unintentionally glares at him before turning to Liam again.

"The van?"

"Yeah, the place where he… you know," Liam gestures his hands in a way to wait until Louis caught on. But the way Louis’ eyes seem so strangely put to what Liam was saying, made him realise that _no_ , he doesn’t know. “Mm, c’mon. I’ll show you."

Liam stands up and takes a hold of Louis’ wrist as he goes, and Louis turns around once to take one last look at Harry. Only to find him being lost in Niall’s mouth as they made out, making Louis want to gag worse than before.

Liam keeps walking until Louis realises he’s taking him out the back. There’s something going on in the bottom of Louis’ stomach but he’s not sure what it is.

Whatever it is, Louis wishes it’d just go away because Liam’s grip on Louis isn’t the only thing that’s hurting right now.

"This is the van."

Louis looks up from the brown stained grass his feet are now on and sees an old, small and rusty van in the very corner of his very well florist backyard. There are plants _everywhere_ and Louis has to take a moment out of his day to admire them all.

It’s like a scene from Snow White, or something else that has a garden like a fairyland. There’s every coloured flower you can think of, not one stem dead or broken. And the bees and the colourful, chirping birds that fly by makes it obvious that this is the best garden to be at. And it’s without a doubt the most beautiful place Louis’ ever stepped foot in.

But he takes a break from the breathtaking scenery to cast his eyes back to the van, which he’s now only noticed is filled with smoke.

"What does he do in there?"

And Liam shrugs. “Basically whatever he wants, really. But he mostly just paints, draws… and smokes."

"Cigarettes?"

"Weed."

"Oh."

Louis’ somewhat taken aback, but the surprise is gone as soon as it comes. Because it’s really not all that shocking.

"Yeah," Liam replies, a bit concerning and cautious, “he didn’t know you were coming today so he… I just, I hope you’re not affected by this, like-"

"No, it’s cool, really." Louis smiles, because what else is he supposed to do? Stop him? “I’m just gonna…" He gestures towards the smoke-filled van, “I’ll catch you later, yeah?"

"Sure," Liam nods and slams his hand with Louis’, “just make sure you’re not too long. Don’t wanna be third-wheeling for the rest of the night."

Louis laughs and promises him he probably won’t be short of an hour or so. Because he wouldn’t like to be put in that position, either.

Walking over the field, he doesn’t actually know what he’s expecting to happen. Or, what he’s expecting to find. He just knows he’s not going back into the house where everyone’s so infatuated with the cute, little, blonde, Irish boy that Louis couldn’t care at all about.

So he creaks open the unstable door of the old van slowly, and peeks his head into it ever so slightly. But something immediately takes him off guard, making him shut the door and jump backwards when he finds himself coughing and spluttering from all the smoke.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters to himself, his hands on his knees as he tries to regain himself.

It’s then, that he realises what a pathetic, pure life he’s lived up until now. Never once tried a drag from a cigarette, never once _thought_ about getting high. All this bullshit purity and caged life his mum has made him live makes Louis all the more want to prove a point.

So he takes in the last breath of fresh air he can grab, and swings open the creaky door once again. This time, inhaling the smoke slowly so it doesn’t get caught up. He closes the door behind him and coughs a few more times, then squints in hopes of finding where the hell Zayn is.

He walks a few more steps until he reaches the other side of the caravan, and finds him. He’s leaned over a sketchbook that’s on a coffee table, his tanned, long fingers curved around a grey led pencil in one hand. In the other, a lit joint.

For a second, Louis doesn’t want to make a sound. Because the way Zayn’s jaw clenches with every stroke his lets his pencil draw, and with every intake of marijuana - tilting his head back so his Adam’s apple is ever so prominent, then breathing it out like it’s the most delicate thing to do - Louis doesn’t want to do anything else but watch.

The light’s shining in from the vans window, and Zayn’s the only thing catching it. Louis almost forgets how to breathe, and has to take a second to remind himself that he’s not just an infringement of his imagination.

But when he does breathe, the smoke catches in his throat and all of a sudden he’s coughing again. He swallows harshly after making himself stop, then looks out from the corner of his eye in anticipation - but to his disappointment, Zayn’s heard him and is now looking at him, red-eyed and smiling.

"Hey, babe."

"Hey."

"Wanna sit down?"

Louis takes a seat next to him as Zayn takes in another drag and draws another few lines on his paper.

Louis takes the time to look at it. The drawings are only black and white, but they look as though some should have colour. There’s a few - a hand with the first and second fingers crossed over like a peace sign, a skull and crossbones, and the one that he’s still drawing - the word ZAP! as done in the comic books they once read together.

"What are these?" He asks him, pointing vaguely to the three rough sketches.

Zayn finishes off the exclamation point when he responds with a grin, “All the tattoos I wanna get." He waits for Louis’ reaction, which is nothing but some raised eyebrows and a nod. Then he asks, “You have any?"

And Louis then looks at him strangely, glancing down at his own untouched skin. “What, tattoos? No way."

Zayn inspects him, and although his eyes are glazed and his movements are slow, Louis can feel his body melt and his skin raise with goose bumps with every second Zayn’s eyes are on him.

He watches as they scan down his neck, his chest, both of his arms, then stop at his waist. Then he looks back up into Louis’ eyes, and Louis can literally feel the breath escape from his throat.

"You should get them," Zayn nods approvingly, “they’d look good on you."

Louis feels admired, and flattered because he’s never really thought of getting ink on his skin like Zayn has. He can’t imagine having a picture, or words, or a symbol imprinted on his body for life. But because Zayn recommends it, Louis considers it.

Another puff from the joint that’s burnt half-way is taken, and it’s then that Louis feels the excess smoke affect him. His mouth starts to feel dry and his mind’s becoming fuzzier by the second.

He looks at the state Zayn’s in, how relaxed and wary he is. He looks at the way he inhales the drug like its heaven, and every drag makes you feel that little but more high. He wants to feel a part of that, want to be in the same atmosphere that Zayn’s in.

So he swallows dry and asks, “can I have some of that?"

And Zayn grins, his eyebrow cocking up devilishly, “never thought you’d ask."

He gets up out of his cushion stool and puts out his joint in the nearby ashtray. He’s searching for something, but then gives up and makes a sound to say he’s got another idea. Then, he brings out a bottle-type thing, and a lighter.

He walks over with the biggest smile, and holds the lip of the bong in his hand up to Louis’ mouth.

Louis looks down. It’s like a captured see-through bowl with off-coloured water, and at the other end, a tube full of chopped up marijuana.

He looks up at Zayn uncertain, “what do I do?"

"I’ll do all the work." Zayn insists, “Just breathe in when I tell you to."

Louis takes in a deep breath for the hell of it, as though all of a sudden he’s forgotten how to, and needs to practice once more.

He nods, “okay."

Louis lets Zayn place the water pipe over his mouth, only watching Zayn as he does so. And he looks at him, too - he looks at his lips as soon as they touch the inhale hole, and meets his eyes - telling him to trust him. And Zayn wouldn’t know it, but on the inside Louis’ nervous, he’s shaking, but the carelessness and comfort in Zayn’s eyes lets Louis know that it’s okay.

A flame from Zayn’s lighter is brought to the bowl, and as soon as it hits, the word “Breathe." is spoken.

Louis sucks in a breath, inhaling everything that’s burning below him. The smoke from the down chamber is filling up his lungs as he keeps breathing in, and when he feels like his lungs have reached their capacity, Zayn takes the lighter away and Louis inhales the remains of smoke in the bong.

He tries to suppress his cough, but it’s extremely hard.

Zayn laughs, “It’s alright, I coughed a shit load the first time, too."

Louis wipes his mouth and shakes his head a little, and he thinks he can go another one. “I’ll do it better this time, I promise."

"Are you sure? You don’t want to like wait or have some-"

"I’m sure. Light it up."

Zayn doesn’t say anything; instead he fills up the slide and waits for a nod from Louis to say he’s ready. Louis’ already got his lips over the rim, and Zayn places his hand over the carb and lights another one.

This time, Louis inhales slowly. He takes a whopping hit, breathing in all the weed that was in there, and sucking up all the smoke from the down chamber.

"Shit." Zayn breathes, his eyes wide.

Louis waits for a cough to come up, but the amount of times he swallowed he thinks he let it stay down.

"You’re getting the hang of this."

"Give me another one." Louis prompts, and Zayn looks at him unsure. “I need to catch up to you, don’t I?"

And Zayn can do nothing but shrug at that, because he’s high as a kite. Plus, whatever Louis wants Zayn wants to grant to him. But this time, he quickly rolls a joint instead, and Louis watches his fingers in fascination.

He tears out one of the papers from the booklet and folds it in half lengthwise being sure the side with the glue is up, and then he twists one of the bottom corners of the paper and places the green inside. He tells Louis that he has to make sure to distribute it evenly along the marijuana cigarette to ensure an even burn, and Louis nods as his eyes still watch intently.

Zayn picks everything up and rolls it back and forth until the mix in the rolling paper is evenly dispersed and cylindrical in shape, then lays what Zayn explains is the ‘roach’, down in the centre at one end of the marijuana cigarette.

"If you put the roach in before rolling, it saves hassle and makes it more likely that you’ll get a perfect fit." Zayn explains, and Louis’ eager ears are already pricked up, absorbing every syllable that flows out of his mouth.

He proceeds to tuck and roll up the back half of the marijuana cigarette and begins to seal it closed by licking it as he looks directly into Louis’ eyes. His tongue trailing along the edge of the paper, staring straight into those observing blue eyes that he _knows_ have watched him from the start.

And Louis doesn’t watch him after that step, because he can feel the drugs in his body now, and he feels as light as a feather and for some reason he’s smiling.

Zayn hands him the handmade joint with a laugh, and wraps Louis’ loose and dangly fingers around it. Zayn has to bring Louis’ fingers up to his mouth because right now he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. All his mind is thinking about is how in the hell he has ended up here; in a backyard with the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

He smiles even more when Zayn’s laughing at him. He doesn’t know why Zayn’s laughing at him, but he knows that he doesn’t have to. All he knows is that he’s there, in front of him, and that’s all that matters.

"Okay, little man. I think that’s enough for now." Zayn’s saying, in the midst of laughter.

And it takes until Zayn’s taking the first drag from his joint between his fingers when Louis realises what has just been said.

"What? No!"

"Hey, hey, hey," Zayn takes a hold of Louis’ hand that was suddenly flailing around, into his own. He links his own fingers with his, which seems to calm him down. “It’s okay; you can have some of mine."

Louis melts into a smile almost immediately, “okay."

"You’ll have to move your mouth close to mine, though. Okay?"

Without changing from his goofy grin, he nods again.

And Zayn takes a hit and it’s a big one. He sucks it into his mouth and tugs on the front of Louis’ shirt straight away. Zayn leans over the mini table and their mouths are almost kissing when Zayn’s lip nudges open Louis’ mouth. The side steam from Zayn’s hit enters directly into Louis’ system and makes him giddy at the thought.

His lips pull into a wide smile again, and Zayn can’t help but press a sealed kiss on top.

-

They’re lying down on top of the already folded out bed on Zayn’s small crooked couch in the corner of the caravan. And Louis’ leaning on Zayn’s chest, protected by the arm that’s wrapped around his shoulders. They don’t speak for a very long time, and neither of them mind because Louis enjoys hearing the inhaling and exhaling from Zayn, as his chest rises up and down ever so smoothly and evenly. This is the complete opposite to his heart that is pounding in Louis’ ear faster than a rabbit jumping away.

And Zayn doesn’t mind the silence, because if he’s honest, he thinks the curled up boy is asleep.

But they’re still riding out their high, and Zayn’s looking down at Louis lovingly, and Louis is capturing this moment in Zayn’s arms. And everything’s so peaceful and perfect, Louis thinks if there were to be a war going on, neither of them would be startled.

He shifts his position slightly, and feels Zayn’s heart speed up a pace. Louis smiles a tiny bit at that, and Zayn can feel his curled lips against his chest, and Louis decides to distract him because Jesus this boy’s about to have a heart attack.

So he gazes up at Zayn, who’s already looking down at him. And although his face is perfectly calm and his eyes are the same every time he’s looked at him - his heart, his goddamn heart - quickens yet again once they lock eyes.

"Zayn?"

"Yeah, babe."

"Tell me about your life."

Zayn bites his lip, “can you go first?"

Louis shakes his head instantly, “No way. Mine’s not at all interesting… you first."

Zayn sighs - not with frustration or unwillingness, it’s like a sigh that begins his story almost - and he adjusts his position, which makes Louis place his head down where it was before, and lets Zayn run his fingers through his hair.

"Uh, well I guess I’ll start from the beginning, yeah?"

"Whatever you want, babe."

"Right. Yeah, okay." He clears his throat, and shifts his body around once more, but still makes sure he doesn’t disturb the way Louis’ placed. “Well, uh, the earliest… memory I have isn’t a very happy one."

Louis’ arm wraps over Zayn’s torso delicately, “it’s okay."

"Are you sure you wanna hear it? I don’t really tell anyone this so it’s like-"

"Whatever you want to tell me is fine." Louis replies calmly, soothing Zayn with his small fingers.

"Yeah, fuck it. I’ll say it."

Louis smiles gingerly, “Okay."

"Okay," Zayn breathes, a smile in his voice. He clears his throat again, and then begins. “It was when I was twelve, and it was the day before I turned thirteen. The day before I was an official teenager, and I remember being really excited and stoked that I was finally getting older. And my parents were planning a surprise party for me, I just knew they were, because they kept talking in a whisper when I went to bed and they’d always go in a separate room whenever dad said he needed to talk. And so, that night before my big surprise party, I was up late because I was absolutely terrified. You’d think I would be an ecstatic little boy about it, but that night it actually hit me like, who would even come?

"And I mean, I know it sounds lame, that I didn’t have a lot of friends, and most of my family didn’t have the strongest bond. So I was sat there in my bed thinking, ‘who’s even gonna be there? Is there even gonna be a party?’ And to this day I really wish I hadn’t have stayed up that night thinking about it, because that’s the night I heard it happen."

His voice breaks half-way through that last sentence, and Louis grabs his hand tightly and squeezes it.

"Obviously, being a twelve-year-old boy, I’d been exposed to a lot of violence in my life on television and what not, but I’d never seen anything as real as that. I don’t… remember exactly who hit who first, I think I’ve suppressed it that many times I’ve lost the memory, but I do remember mums mouth dripping with blood when she caught me standing there in the doorway watching. Dad with this… terrifying look in his eyes like he wasn’t going to stop, but he had bruises, too." Zayn looks down at Louis, making sure he’s not completely freaking out over his childhood story. But Louis just lies there, listening intently with a sorry look on his face.

Zayn leans his head back and swallows once, preparing himself to continue. “I remember them both yelling at me, telling me to go back to bed because it was a big day for me tomorrow, ‘you’re thirteen in a couple of hours!’ Mum had said, which probably hurts the most because I was twelve, not blind. She was talking to me like everything was alright, like she didn’t have fucking _blood_ in her mouth, as though they weren’t _fucking_ fighting-"

Zayn cuts himself off abruptly. He unclenches the fist he’s formed that’s on top of Louis’ head, and takes in a deep breath before he continues again.   
  
“Needless to say, there was a ‘surprise’ party the next day. There was food, and drinks, and balloons, and two presents, waiting for me when I woke up. And when I entered the room, of course there wasn’t anyone there but my parents, who smiled and yelled ‘SURPRISE’ when I appeared. I remember thinking how sickening it was for them to pretend like everything was fine and dandy, even though the marks on their skin and tear stains on their cheeks were obvious on both of them.

"And as it turns out, mum had sent everyone in my year level at school an invitation to my party. But three hours passed and not a face was shown at my doorstep. I had a party hat on, and was eating my chocolate Superman cake by myself. It was absolutely riveting. But then, when three and a half hours passed, there was a ring of the doorbell. You wouldn’t believe how fast I ran to it, and I probably had chocolate smudged all around my face, but I really didn’t care, because there was a _guest_ at my door. And when I opened it, there was a kid from my class, a quiet boy, with a present wrapped in his hands that was way too big for him to carry. He was a big, brown-eyed boy with a nervous smile and I invited him in straight away."

Zayn smiles to himself, reminiscing the happy part of this memory. “I remember that he apologised for being late and I told him it doesn’t matter, and he asked where everyone was, I told him nobody showed up. And instead of leaving me like I thought he would’ve - he stayed and told me happy birthday - which was definitely the best surprise I’ve ever gotten."

Louis curls further into Zayn’s body, latching onto him like he’s his life support. He presses a kiss to his chest, then squeezes his hand again and lies back down on his cheek.

"What was his name?"

Zayn brushes his fingers gently through Louis’ hair once before responding. “Liam."

"No way, bartender Liam came to your thirteenth birthday party?"

"Yep," Zayn nods with a smile, “that’s pretty much the first time we had a conversation, too, and we became best friends like, straight away."

"I bet you were absolutely stoked when an attractive boy arrived at your party," Louis winks with a cheeky nudge, and Zayn’s mouth falls open.

"I wasn’t gay then, actually." Zayn replies, and Louis’ face turns into an expression that makes Zayn back away a little bit and say, “Jesus, don’t be so surprised."

"Sorry, but, really?" Louis cocks his head up at him curiously.

"Well, did _you_ know you liked the dick when you were thirteen?"

"Fuck, true," Louis exhales, shaking his head. His lips start to form into a smile and he begins to laugh again, for absolutely no reason at all. He stops suddenly and frowns, “Wow, I really am high."

Zayn uses his hand to cover his mouth as he laughs into it hysterically. His eyes crinkle up and they’re the only thing Louis can see, but the reaction and the giggles escaping Zayn’s mouth set off Louis once more and they’re fumbling on the bed in a fit of laughter.

It’s darker outside, Louis’ noticed, and that makes him feel a bit uneasy. It feels like time isn’t passing to him, and his mind is going slower than usual, but the life outside of this smoky van is still going on.

Louis ends up sitting side-ways across Zayn’s lap somehow, and their laughter has turned into little kisses here and there, making each other smile giddily.

"When did you know? That you were gay, that is."

Louis’ fingers mingle into Zayn’s hair and his other hand is gently placed on his jaw, his thumb stroking Zayn’s stubble ever so softly. Zayn contemplates the answer to Louis’ question, his brows furrow slightly as he tries to think.

He turns to Louis after a few seconds and says, “To be honest… I think it was when I actually started working at the club."

"What? Really? So, when you signed up for a _gay_ bar you weren’t actually aware that-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up a second there." Zayn makes a stop symbol with the palm of his hand, “I didn’t just automatically start off at a gay bar, that’s just where I ended up going after the club across the road went bankrupt."

"Oh," Louis replies, then kisses Zayn on the lips once, “did you have the heart to tell the men there that you were straight?"

Unexpectedly, Zayn laughs. “God, no. I’d never earn money that way. But I think you can kind of figure out _how_ I realised I was gay, because of the amount of dick there every time I went."

"So… you could’ve gotten with any of those guys, right?"

"Well," Zayn pauses for a few seconds, then his face turns uncertain and he shrugs, “I guess?"

_Of course you could’ve_ Louis thinks; _you could pick them out from the crowd like candy, except they’d be the ones drooling over you instead._

This got Louis thinking. Out of all the males Zayn’s seen - the amount of dicks, like he said - he found Louis, and not only did he recognise him, he had also followed up his desperate attempts of asking him out… But why?

And Louis thinks too much. And most the time it’s okay, because it stays in his head and that’s all. But what’s not okay is when he’s in an altered state of consciousness and he’s not entirely aware of what’s coming out of his mouth.

He turns to look at Zayn without a second thought, his arms linking around his neck loosely as Zayn holds him there.

"Zayn… why was it me that you chose? Why did you chase after me?"

He pauses for longer than what Louis thought possible. But he knows Zayn’s heard him because he can see his eyes and how they think about his question.

His hand brings Louis’ chin upwards, planting a kiss on his lips before saying, “Because nobody’s ever took the chance to know me like you have, and… I know this might sound absolutely crazy to you, but I don’t know what it is about you that makes me so interested. I just honestly knew you were special from the moment I found myself hoping you would always be there, watching me on stage just like the first time."

For Louis to even reply to that would be a miracle. He finds himself with a choked up throat and a heart that’s beating so fast he doesn’t know if he wants to grin like a maniac or cry like a baby.

"That sounds crazy, doesn’t it?"

"Absolutely." Louis manages to choke out. But he sees a glimpse of embarrassment cross onto Zayn’s face, and quickly corrects himself. “But the good kind. The kind of crazy that makes me want to do backflips over towers for you and run through a pit of angry snakes just to get to you. And _that’s_ crazy."

And Louis finally meets Zayn’s eyes after that, and Zayn’s looking at him like he’s his entire world. Suddenly - but not too suddenly, since the world’s traveling so slowly for both of them right now - Zayn’s right hand is planted in Louis’ hair. His left on Louis’ thigh, pulling his whole body around so Louis is straddling him straight on. Zayn’s lips tease him, only lingering on Louis’ for a few seconds.

And when Louis leans forward to kiss him again, Zayn’s finger connects instead.

"Nuh-ah," Zayn says with a smirk, shaking his head. “It’s your turn."

Louis deflates in disappointment, “you really don’t wanna hear about me, there’s nothing that I-"

"Louis, everyone has a story," Zayn states, playing with the thread of Louis’ shirt, “you just have to tell it."

He sighs, and fixes himself up on Zayn’s lap into a more comfortable position. “Okay, fine."

His eyes scan across the room as he thinks of what to say. He takes in a deep breath and begins, somewhat reluctantly. “So, as you know, I’m at university right now. But it’s not even because I _want_ to be there, it’s basically a chore every day. I only go because mum literally enrolled me and forced me in there on my first day. And that’s pretty much how she controls my life, _forcing_ me to do _everything_ she wants me to do. But it’s not even just that, it’s her beliefs, her values, everything she does she wants _me_ to do. And I know it sounds absolutely pathetic of me to sit here and complain about my mother, but it’s honestly just so… _exhausting_."

"You want freedom."

Louis’ face lights into a grin, “Freedom! Yes! Free of her, free of being put down, free of being told what’s right and what’s wrong." He sighs with a smile, “that would be great."

"Then why don’t you be free?"

Louis hesitates for a while. His eyebrows pull into a frown and he leans his chin on top of Zayn’s shoulder with a huff.

"I don’t know."

And it’s true, because Louis has no idea why he hasn’t moved out, hasn’t bought himself a house with the weekly allowance his dad gives him, hasn’t moved away where he’s allowed to be his own person.

But then he _does_ know why. Because he’s the only real thing his mum has left. Everything else she loves has left her, she has to replace them with expensive garments and jewellery and stuff that doesn’t even matter.

"Well, you’re free here." Zayn says, finally giving in and giving him that well deserved kiss. “And you’re welcome here anytime you want."

Louis giggles into his mouth and moves in closer towards him, not wanting to be apart at all, ever. He uses his fingertips to discover Zayn one body part at a time, starting with his face.

He trails ever so softly down his temples, to his cheekbones that could sharpen a knife, to his jawline, then his fingers touch when they reach the tip of his chin at the same time. Louis feels Zayn’s eyes on him, which doesn’t do any justice for his crazy feelings down in his chest to his stomach.

They lock eyes, and the sides of Zayn’s mouth prick up into a small smile. And Louis says something he’s sure he’ll regret later on.

"This might be the drugs talking, but I think I love you."

But instead of an awkward pause - or, in another case, someone pretending to call Zayn’s phone because there’s an ‘emergency’ and he ‘really has to go but its nice knowing you’ - he just widens his smile, and his eyes say something that can’t be explained.

Then he’s flipping Louis onto his back like it’s the most simplistic task ever, taking the breath out of Louis completely.

Zayn’s on top, kissing his mouth a few times before trailing down his neck and sucking and biting. This is all too much for Louis in a span of thirty seconds and he’s starting to think the drugs aren’t even in his system anymore.

But Zayn continues, his hands starting to uncover Louis’ body inch by inch, starting with his waistline, moving to his abdomen, up to his chest. Louis shamelessly throws his arms up and raises his body high enough for the shirt to slip off effortlessly.

Zayn stops kissing him for a few minutes and resorts to checking out Louis’ body instead. His admiring eyes scan him up and down, burning up Louis’ cheeks every time Zayn starts to scan downwards. And now he’s biting his lip like he wants to devour him, and Louis’ not sure whether he can take that.

"Stop being such a tease." Louis tells him, face redder than a fire truck.

"I like to suss out the situation before I attack."

"I’m not a ‘situation.’"

"Okay. But I’m still willing to attack you."   
  
“Shut up."

Louis’ hand clutches the front of Zayn’s top firmly, smashing their lips together. He rips off his button-up top the second they pull apart, and Zayn’s impressed by his eagerness.

But Zayn’s a true player for teasing - hell, teasing is his specialty - and as much as he knows Louis loves it, he also loves how much Louis hates it.

So he trails his finger down the length of Louis’ half-naked body, stopping until he gets to his waistline. He unbuttons his jeans, letting the zipper fall down automatically as he sticks his hand down the front, but not inside his boxers, because that’s not teasing, is it?

He feels Louis’ boner through the thin material, and despite Zayn’s desperate cock, he tries his best to ignore it and keep his cool.

Louis wants nothing but to feel more, but he knows better than to expect it straight away. Zayn’s hand returns back to Louis’ body, much to both of their disappointment. And it’s not until a few more seconds of making out when they realise ‘teasing’ isn’t doing anything for either of them.

Louis’ pants are yanked off hard enough for them to be pulled straight down completely off his legs, with his boxers gone, too. Exposing his great thighs, ass, and throbbing dick. And Zayn’s patience has suddenly disappeared.

Along with his own pants.

He pounces back on to Louis without hesitation, whose hands cling onto Zayn’s shoulders instantly. He’s breathing so fast and his face is telling Zayn nothing but frustration, and that makes him hard as hell.

He wraps his hand around Louis’ erection, and pumps him a few times before rubbing his thumb over the tip. But when he sees Louis’ back arching and his fingers digging into the mattress, Zayn knows this isn’t what Louis wants.

Zayn moves Louis’ legs upwards, so his knees are bent and there’s more access for him.

"How many?" He asks, and it takes a while for Louis to open his squinting eyes.

He looks back at him in a daze, “what?"

Zayn does nothing but hold up his fingers, and it’s enough for Louis to widen his eyes suddenly and let his head fall back onto the pillows in exhaustion.

"So that’s…"

"A yes." Louis replies breathlessly.

Zayn raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t question it. He touches the sides of Louis’ thighs to make them spread out, but Louis’ on it instantly, spreading them further without another prompt.

Zayn reaches down at the end of the bed, and opens up the small drawer underneath, taking out the one bottle of half-empty lube. He flicks up the lid and dips his fingers into it generously; slicking them up enough for Louis since this is his first time.

Zayn puts back the bottle and rubs some onto Louis’ entrance, which makes him twitch a few times from the initial coldness. But he warms up to it pretty quickly, and Zayn begins to press his fingers around the outside.

There’s one hundred and fifty things going through Louis’ head right now but nothing in there seems to be making any sense. All he knows is Zayn’s down there, making him feel good. So _good_ , and it’s enough to make his back arch like it’s never done and his cock to twitch maniacally at Zayn’s touch.

It’s so, so slow, but the second one finger is beginning to insert, the second Louis’ first moan escapes. He can’t even help it this time, the feeling’s just too overwhelming to let it bypass.

First finger, first knuckle, and Louis’ own knuckles are turning white from the urgency of pulling at the bed sheets.

First finger, second knuckle.

"Zayn!" Louis whines.

He’s turning his finger slower than he did inserting it, and he must _know_ how badly Louis’ loves it. Because he does it long enough for Louis to nearly cry.

"Zayn! God, more!" Louis orders, finally opening his eyes.

He watches Zayn watching him. He does it so smoothly, still rotating his first finger as he slips in his second, watching how Louis squirms underneath him, his high moans slipping out of his mouth as his cock twitches desperately.

He waits for Louis to touch himself, to relieve his own erection. But when he doesn’t, Zayn places a hand on him instead.

But he does a shit job on purpose, his wrist is lazy and he’s too busy finger fucking him to care. And it works, because soon after, Louis’ hand is knocking Zayn’s away, and is pumping himself harder than Zayn’s ever done.

Louis is sweaty, his fringe is starting to stick to his head and water is trickling down his chest. Zayn’s getting so hot and he’s so horny he thinks he might pass out. The state Louis’ in makes him want to orgasm on the spot.

But Zayn’s rotating and curving his fingers inside of him, desperately trying to find the sweet spot.

"Fuck, Zayn!" Louis’ hips buckle, and he’s thrusting upwards into his own hand.

Those were the last real words that escaped Louis’ mouth, after that they were all incoherent moans that entered Zayn’s ears and got him hornier than ever.

His impatience is getting the better of him, and he’s going so fast trying to find Louis’ g-spot.

"Ugh!" Louis moans loudly, his hips thrusting higher and his legs wrapping around Zayn.

Zayn smirks to himself, and keeps hitting the same spot that made Louis get that reaction. Louis’ hand is slowing down, but his sounds and hips aren’t delaying at all.

"I’m gonna cum." He breathes.

Zayn twists his fingers inside once more, and that’s all he had to do to make Louis reach, and cum on Zayn’s chest.

He takes his fingers out as Louis tries to regain himself, his whole body relaxing as his breathing begins to slow down.

But Zayn can’t wait much longer, and he starts to jack himself off.

But he’s stopped suddenly before he can reach, by a smaller hand that’s found itself on top of Zayn’s larger one.

He looks up to Louis, sweaty and breathless Louis, who has a gleam in his eye.

"Let me."

Zayn places his hand beside him and Louis grips onto Zayn’s cock with both hands. One stays still at the base while the other begins to pump him slowly.

"I’ve never done this before," he admits.

"That’s okay, you’re doing fine."

He feels Louis’ hot breath suddenly, and it hits him like a tonne of bricks. His head rolls back and he tries his hardest to not cum this early.

To be fair, he _was_ just about to go when all he was doing was watching Louis jerk underneath him. But Zayn sucks up his years of experience like a sponge, and holds it back like an expert.

Louis’ tongue licks its way up from the bottom to the top, and Zayn wants to whimper because when the _fuck_ did he learn to do that?

It doesn’t take much to make Zayn cave in after that, because as soon as Louis’ mouth sucks him off a few times, Zayn doesn’t even have time to warn him.

He ejaculates into Louis’ throat, and he’s preparing to apologise. Because he knows how hard that was to take on his first time.

But Louis takes Zayn by surprise, and swallows it.

He wipes his mouth proudly with the back of his hand and smiles.

"I did it just how you taught me." He tells him, and pecks Zayn on the forehead before crawling back into bed.

"I love you too." Zayn whispers after him, but makes sure it’s too soft for Louis to hear. And he joins Louis, wrapping his arm around his waist as they both start to drift off to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the slackness of my updating but hopefully that long chapter made up for it :)) and you can expect another update soon i promise! thanks guys xx


	10. Come To Me

The house smells like Cheetos, alcohol and Pepsi, with a mix of Zayn’s cologne here and there. The couch is empty, but there’s a sound coming from the kitchen.

Louis begins to look in a frenzy, underneath couch cushions and tables, and Louis’ looking so hard for these car keys he starts to wonder if maybe Harry’s gone and taken them with him.

But there’s one thing for sure; he can’t enter the bedroom or the kitchen, in case that Irish lad is in either.

So he carefully doesn’t make a sound when he walks down the corridor. But apparently trying doesn’t pay off, because a creak in the floorboards outside the bedroom made by his foot caused the snoring to suddenly stop.

"Shit." Louis hisses through his teeth.

"Louis?"

"… Yeah."

"Hang on a minute."

He reluctantly stays in his position as he hears the shuffling and ruckus Niall’s making. Louis sighs in defeat and prays to himself that this won’t take long.

Then Niall appears as he clumsily swings open the door in a rush, stumbling over his own feet.

The first thing Louis notices is what a mess Niall’s hair is in. His blonde hair is switched and pulled in all different directions, making Louis look at him disapprovingly by reflex.

The second thing he notices is how Niall’s only wearing a shirt. Which, by the way, is inside out. And he also has a very prominent lipstick stain on his right cheek.

"What’s that?" Louis points, his eyes looking at it in confusion.

"What’s what?"

Louis wiggles his finger at the mark in disgust, and Niall brings his own fingers to touch it. Feeling the stickiness, he looks into his phone at the reflection and blushes immediately.

"Oh," he lets out a shaky laugh and rubs his hand into it, desperately trying to take it off. “Harry, uh, he found a-"

"Okay, yeah. Changed my mind, don’t really wanna know."

Niall nods once and begins to lick his fingers to try and rub the lipstick off that way instead. But it only smudges it further onto his cheek and makes it look like he’s blushing incredibly more - although he probably is, anyway.

"So, uh, I wanted to stop you here to ask you something, actually." Niall stutters, rubbing furiously now.

Louis crosses over his arms and looks at him, “What is it?"

"Well, I - uh," he runs a finger through his hair and then brings both his hands together, finally letting alone the now affected lipstick smudge he’s suddenly become so self-conscious about. “Just wanted to see if you wanted a lift to your lecture?"

Louis raises a brow sceptically, “really?"

"Y-yeah, really."

He notices the area around him, and realises that the snoring has stopped, which means that _obviously_ Harry’s awake. And Liam’s in the kitchen, humming something remarkably in tune.

And Louis places his hands on his hips, because he knows Harry far too well, and he knows Niall wouldn’t voluntarily take Louis of all people out in his car.

"It’s okay," Louis smiles, patting him on the shoulder. Inexcusably saving the both of them, “I’ll pass."

Niall doesn’t say anything after that, and as Louis walks passed, he can hear the opening of the bedroom door and Harry asking, “what’d he say?" in what he must think is a whisper.

Louis enters the kitchen and finds Liam dancing away as he silently sings along to the music in his ears. He’s flipping something on the stove and cleaning up the bench that’s next to an over-filled rubbish bin. It’s almost tipping over with the amount of beer cans and bottles, and Louis wonders whether they’re all from last night, or if Zayn’s bin has always been like that.

He tries to not scare Liam - he really does - but as soon as Louis’ in his vision, Liam stumbles back with a harsh gasp and he has to balance himself against the bench to stop from falling.

He clutches onto his chest and breathes out heavily with a smile when he realises who it is. He takes out his headphones and nods towards Louis. “Hey."

"Hey." Louis responds, a little bit more cautiously, since startling Liam has made his own body frightened. “Sorry for… scaring you."

Liam laughs, “It’s okay, just didn’t see you, s’all."

Louis nods, and can’t help but notice how he looks and sounds a tad ‘off.’

"How was last night?"

Liam just shrugs, and rubs his hand on the back of his neck. “Where you off to today?" He asks him, brushing off Louis’ question as though it meant nothing.

And then the conversation they had before Louis went inside Zayn’s van came flooding back, and now Louis’ looking at Liam more sheepishly than ever.

"Li, I’m sorry I ditched you last night."

He shakes his head, “Nah, all cool. Wasn’t expecting you to come back anyway to be honest."

"Just got a bit caught up and-"

"You smoke the weed?"

"Well, yeah but-"

"Makes sense, then."

Liam turns his back and bends over to pick up the sides of the rubbish bin, juggling each side a few times, rustling the beer bottles against each other. He takes both sides and presses them down on top, squashing all the contents as he goes with it. Then he ties the sides of the plastic bag together and pulls it up out of the bin, swinging it over his shoulder.

But before he exits outside, Louis catches him at the last second. “Hey, Liam?"

He turns around fluently, as though he were on a catwalk. “Yes?"

"Do you have a car?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Would you… be able to drive me to school?"

He was already running late. A few minutes, to be exact. And it’s times like these where Louis wishes he had’ve gone for his driver’s license instead of studying to get into university.

Liam nods, “sure, man."

"Thanks." Louis smiles back.

-

"Now class, today we’re going to be learning about sucking dick. Because I’m a fat whore, and nobody should listen to me because my voice sounds like shit."

Of course, that’s not really what Louis’ lecturer is saying right now. But to be honest his mind is so far gone he can’t focus on this lesson no matter how hard he tries.

It’s so boring, but when he dubs over the obese man that’s in front of the class who Louis’ never really liked, it makes things a little more interesting. But only for a few minutes, then Louis’ bored again.

He scans the room whilst tapping his pencil on the side of his desk, blowing out air slowly through his mouth. All he finds in the lecture are either people as equally bored as him, or the selected few who actually pay attention and take down notes.

 _Huh_. he slouches into his chair, _Maybe I should do that._

He opens up his book and attempts to listen to whatever the fuck this man is saying. He’s talking about something to do with federal court and as hard as he listens, it’s almost impossible for him to soak up what’s being said.

Louis’ eyes find themselves drifting off towards the window to his left, and he knows that there’s no hope in him listening now.

His mind is instead filled with the version of events that happened last night, and he’s surprised that he actually remembers them.

Because unlike alcohol, and unlike getting absolutely blinded, getting high has no affects like that. You can remember everything, and you don’t get hangovers the next morning. And Louis wonders why he hadn’t chosen this option earlier.

He crosses back to when he first saw Zayn in the van, drawing what he claimed were the tattoos he wants to get someday. He thinks to when Zayn told him he’d look good with inked skin, and that he should get some.

Louis blushes at the thought, which is exactly what he did the first time Zayn told him that.

He pulls his eyebrows in slightly, thinking about what tattoos he _could_ get. Because although he’s been highly against them and his mum would absolutely chuck a fit if she found ink on her baby’s skin, Louis finds himself attracted to the idea - attracted to the sense of risk and adrenaline - the feeling he seems to get every time Zayn’s near him.

And then he finds himself doodling in his notepad, the words: Tattoo Ideas scribbled on top of the page, underlined with another messy scribble.

He thinks back to his childhood - because that’s the time he’s felt most at ease - and besides Harry, the other thing Louis remembers from that time is the way he used to ride skateboards around _everywhere._ Him and Harry, skating around to the shops and school and skate parks, and Louis felt so free every time he rushed outside and rolled on the pavement on top of his board.

So, Louis draws a skateboard as his first sketch, with a stick figured man on top (since Louis can’t really draw people all too well) and he smiles.

After that the ideas just keep flowing. And soon enough, after an hour and a half lecture, his page is filled with words and a cup of tea and birds and clocks.

And Louis actually considers placing them all on his body. Because the idea of it is just so thrilling to him now, he craves the needle onto his skin and craves the affection he’ll feel whenever he looks down to see it, admiring the permanent creation because it _means_ something to him.

But the bell goes before he can think up any more, and packs all his things before Mr. Dunstan can finish telling everyone the homework for the weekend.

He pushes passed the students, and makes his way towards Harry’s car that’s parked right outside the gates. It’s always such a relief to know that another boring day has finished and he can do whatever the fuck he likes now. Until Monday, that is.

But when he walks closer, he realises the seat that he was about to take has already been taken. By Niall.

"Hey, Lou." Harry greets him when Louis hops into the back seat.

"Hey." Louis says back, unhappily.

He waits for a mocking greeting from Niall, but when he sits there in silence instead, Louis smiles to himself for a second.

Harry starts the car, and as he drives it’s awfully silent. Until Louis catches Harry and Niall make fierce eye contact, looking like they’re telepathically arguing about who has to do what. Then as they stop at a red light, Harry sighs in defeat and turns to Louis.

"We were just gonna go out for lunch, you wanna come?"

Oh, _that’s_ what they were fighting about. Niall didn’t want to ask him, so he made Harry.

And Louis looks at Harry with a disappointed glance - because _man_ he can be such a pushover - and then looks at Niall, who’s playing with his fingers so roughly in anticipation it surely cannot be healthy.

"…You’re sure about that?" Louis has to ask, because Niall looks like he’s about to pass out and Harry seemed pretty low key on the invitation anyway.

Not to mention how awkward it will be for Louis to third wheel with his best friend and some guy he doesn’t even like.

But Niall then turns around as Harry hits the accelerator again, and says, “Of course!"

-

Lunch is terrible. And awkward. And really something Louis doesn’t want to be at right now.

Harry’s gone to the front counter to order what they want, which leaves Louis and Niall sitting in the cushioned booth by themselves. Niall’s playing with the salt on the table, pouring a little bit out then moving it all around until it falls onto his lap. Louis watches him for a few seconds, looking at him like he’s the biggest buffoon he’s ever seen and wishes that Harry will just come back so they can leave sooner.

Then when Louis looks away, Niall stops what he’s doing and gazes up to Louis. He does something like shake his head at himself, and cleans up all the salt from his lap and the table. He sits upright, and maybe even puts his hands on his thighs respectively.

What’s he doing?

"You in primary school again or something? Nobody’s gonna smack you for slouching." Louis tells him, sharpness in his voice.

Niall shakes his head again and quickly changes his position, getting comfortable in the seat and placing his hands in three different positions, then gives up and sighs.

"Louis, why do you hate me?"

He looks at him with big, blue eyes, and Louis feels strangely confronted.

He clears his throat, “What do you mean?"

"Well I just… don’t know why you hate me so much. Like, I know me being with Harry is gonna be hard for you to accept but… is that the only reason?"

And Louis has to scratch the back of his neck at that because _shit_ what is the reason? There’s no real point explanation about it, it’s just his face, his voice, his cockiness when he’s drunk and the angelic façade when he’s not. And Louis can’t really explain why that ticks him off so much.

"Don’t get too ahead of yourself." Louis says, “I don’t _hate_ you."

"I’ve never hated you."

Louis raises his eyebrows for a second, “Never thought you did."

There’s a shift in the mood, and Louis doesn’t know whether he likes it or not. Because the thing is, Niall’s always been the one that interrupts Louis’ life whenever he’s having a good time. He’s always been the one that Harry gets excited over, always talk about, always brings up in conversation and yeah, Louis’ been okay with it every now and then.

Sure, he’s _jealous_ of Niall to a degree, since he’s the bigger priority for Harry and now that he’s his partner, that’s never going to change.

But then again, Niall _is_ Harry’s boyfriend now. Of course there’s going to be a difference between Niall and Louis. And there’s been so much built up tension and unnecessary hate towards him, that now looking at Niall from across the table, Louis sees something different.

"Can we make it even, at least?" Niall asks, his Irish accent all the more prominent.

And Louis quirks an eyebrow and stares at him, “Even?"

"Yeah. Like, maybe, you could punch me or something? So that you could hate me less and I could hate you more? Just so we’re on even ground. And… don’t try and get my nose or any part of my face." He squints his eyes and scrunches up his nose in preparation, leaning back a tiny bit but he keeps still, “And not too hard, please. I’m not as strong as I look."

Niall laughs at himself for a tiny bit, but realises that Louis’ not. And behind closed eyes, he’s probably visioning Louis’ clenched fist, pulled backwards ready for a shot.

But what’s really happening, is Louis looking at terrified Niall with sympathy. _Sympathy_.

"I’m not gonna punch you, you goose."

Niall face relaxes, and his eyes open in relief, “Really?" He then swallows hard, “Why? Is there something else you wanna do?"

"Yeah," Louis replies, watching as Harry starts to walk over hesitantly with a few pies and cans, “I wanna eat."

Niall lights up and his grin is so wide Louis thinks it might bounce off his face as much as Niall might bounce off his chair.

"Me too!" He beams, making room in the cushioned booth for Harry to sit.

As he’s making room, his knee knocks into Louis’ and he edges away instantly. “Sorry."

But Louis just smiles a little bit and says, “You are so weird."

-

"I’ll see you later, yeah?" Louis says to them both as they exit the café.

Harry looks over Louis’ shoulder and smiles knowingly, recognising the shop a few doors down.

Niall nods once, “Bye, Louis."

And before he can turn towards Harry’s car, Louis stops him with a firm, held out hand. Niall looks at it questionably, but when he sees the smile on Louis’ lips, Niall grins and shakes the hand that’s held out to him.

Harry’s watching in admiration, a proud smile present as he looks at Louis fondly. Probably praising him silently at how mature he’s becoming.

And after the brief handshake that’s noticeably made Niall go all fuzzy, Harry pulls Louis into a tight hug, squeezing him around his waist so much so that Louis forgets how to breathe.

"Love you, man." Harry tells him, and pecks his cheek once before letting him go.

Louis slaps him on the shoulder with a nod, and watches as they get into the car. He waves them off, and Louis thinks he can still see Niall’s massive smile once they’re at the end of the street.

The coffee shop has the same smell as it always does. Freshly brewed coffee and boiling water which steam sometimes creeps up into your nose when you breathe in.

And Zayn’s behind the counter as he always is, taking orders politely and making drinks so pleasingly it would create the illusion to anyone that steps foot in here that he adores this job. And Louis has to pause at that because, maybe he does love it.

He waits in line and queues up to the counter. He waits until Zayn’s eyes flicker up to the next customer, and his whole face lights up immediately.

Louis greets him with a smile, “When do you knock off?"

Zayn checks the clock on the wall above Louis’ head. “In about seven minutes."

"Well in that case," Louis pauses, taking out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, “I’ll have the usual, thanks."

Once the seven minutes pass and Louis’ mug is empty, he returns back to the counter, where Zayn is in the midst of clocking off.

He cleans up a few spots and chats to the next employee that is taking over his shift, then pulls off his apron and hangs it on one of the hooks. Zayn exits from behind the counter and pulls Louis into him, their hips and nose touching as Louis’ breath catches slightly.

"Missed you." Zayn tells him quietly, only loud enough for Louis to hear.

"Sap." Louis replies, a smile in his voice.

Zayn tries not to smile back, but his lips curl anyway. “Shut up."

To which Louis laughs a little, “Make me." He challenges.

And Zayn presses his lips to Louis’ delicately. Then once more a bit forcefully this time. And that does shut him up.

They’re walking towards Zayn’s house as their hands are linked together, Louis nudging into Zayn’s side ever so slightly as Zayn fits in with him perfectly.

They catch a few stares as they walk down the busy road, but as much as Louis hates public attention, he couldn’t mind at all this time. He shrugs off the stares and leans into Zayn that little bit more, brushing his thumb against the back of Zayn’s hand.

"You know, I’ve been thinking about what you said." Louis brings up, his legs in sync with Zayn’s.

"Oh yeah?" He questions, “What was that?"

"About me getting a tattoo."

And just as those words are spoken, the crummy sign above their heads state that they’ve stumbled across the old tattoo parlour ironically where Zayn gets all his done at. Louis saw the sign first, which triggered the remembrance of Zayn’s words.

And Zayn smirks at him, looks at the entrance, and smirks even more. Louis feels a shrill of adrenaline rush down his spin as soon as he notices that recognisable gleam in Zayn’s eye.

"I’ll get one if you get one." He nudges Zayn’s side, and Louis looks at him with doubt.

He really can’t say he wasn’t expecting that.

"But… I’ve never gotten one before. And you have like, thirty." Louis replies cowardly.

Zayn snorts, “I have twelve. And hey, think of it as this a little taste of freedom."

_a taste of freedom_

"Tempting, but…" Louis stops, racking his brain for him to not go in there and have a needle full of ink pressed to his untouched skin, “it’s getting late and-"

"It’s four-thirty, Louis."

"Well, okay. But-"

Zayn rolls his eyes with a smile, “C’mon."

He tugs Louis’ reluctant arm and pulls him into the tattoo parlour. It’s dark and uninviting and empty, and Louis feels like he’s back at that scary ally way Harry took him to that one time.

There are photos on the wall of different patterns and colours and all sorts of options that Louis would definitely not consider. The receptionist (if you can even call her that) is slouched over the desk, eyes closed and oblivious to the world around her.

She’s got every inch of her skin from what Louis can see, covered in tattoos. They stop at her neck, and Louis wonders why she hasn’t done her face as well, since she already looks ridiculous enough.

"Sit down," Zayn orders, and Louis takes a seat hesitantly on one of the steel looking chairs placed around a small coffee table.

Zayn walks up to the front desk, and nudges the girl with his finger. “Mary." Zayn says, but gets no response.

"Mary!" He shouts with a shove, and the girl awakes with a started snort, rising out from her slouched position dozily.

"Mary," Zayn repeats, his tone normal again. “It’s time to wake up, you’ve got clients."

She rubs her nose a few times - which has about three piercings in it, one through the middle of her nostrils - then proceeds to wave Zayn off as she tries to go back to sleep.

"Tell them we’re closed."

Zayn contemplates waking her up again, but sighs heavily instead and gestures for Louis to follow him into the back room.

It’s shit scary at this place, there’s two recliner chairs in the tiny room, both with small tables on either side, filled with clutter that is obviously used for this type of thing.

Louis spots a buff looking man from across the room, his back turned. And unsurprisingly, he’s covered completely in tatts, too.

"Hey, Max." Zayn greets at the doorway, staying at Louis’ side. Probably because he can feel Louis shaking against him.

The big man turns around and Louis feels the need to whine. He doesn’t, though, and instead curls into Zayn’s shoulder.

"Zayn!" He beams, although it’s not friendly.

His eyes are looking at Zayn and familiarising himself with him as though they’ve met plenty of times before. His beard rises with his smile, which shows his off-coloured teeth shamelessly.

"Max, this is Louis." Zayn introduces, and Louis can’t get anything out except for a squeak. Zayn squeezes his hand.

"Ah, Louis." Max’s husky voice bellows around the room as he steps closer, “Untouched, I see."

"Excuse me?"

"He means un-tattooed." Zayn confirms quietly in Louis’ ear, and Louis softens.

"Oh. Yeah."

"And we’re about to change that, I’m guessing?" Max quirks an eyebrow, and Louis and Zayn both nod. “Well, then. Sit up."

He pats one of the chairs with his hand, then goes to one of the tables and puts together something Louis doesn’t wish to watch.

Louis flashes a look to Zayn, and Zayn squeezes his hand again and looks at him as if to say, _I got you._

"I’ll go first," Zayn declares, already walking off and sitting down in front of Max. “I’ve wanted this one for a while."

"Ooh," Max inclines, “What is it?"

Zayn lifts up his hips to gain easy access as his fingers reach into the front of his pocket to pull out a neatly folded piece of paper. Louis already knows what it is before he smooths it out on top of the table Max is working on.

He points to the massive ZAP! sketch, “That one."

"Nice," Max nods approvingly, “where?"

Zayn traces his fingers on his forearm, measuring the length with his middle finger and thumb. “About that big? And… that wide?"

It practically takes up the whole of Zayn’s forearm, and Louis doesn’t know whether he’ll like that or not.

But then he scoffs to himself. Of course he’ll like it. It’s _Zayn_. He could shave off his hair and Louis would coo over his bald head.

"Okay," Max announces after all the equipment is ready and the outline is finished, he holds up the needle and widens his eyes, “Party time."

-

Zayn’s sitting there with a small smile as he looks down at his newest tattoo that’s now covered in plastic. He looks at it from different angles, bending his forearm and straightening it out as he cranes his neck to see every aspect of it.

He turns to Louis and holds out the inked arm proudly, “D’you like it?"

Louis nods immediately, “Yeah it’s cool. Suits you."

Zayn smiles wider, then jerks his head towards the chair across from him. “Your turn."

All the blood from his face disappears as Louis realises that yes it is his turn. He backtracks onto the chair, unable to stop shaking, and collapses into it with an unstable sigh.

He sees Max preparing - or cleaning, Louis’ not sure - and Louis to Zayn for comfort.

"Zayn?" Louis whispers, and Zayn takes his hand straight away. “I’m scared."

"Why?"

"I don’t…" Louis leans in closer and speaks quieter, afraid that Max will hear, “I don’t trust these people."

And Zayn laughs, pulls away from Louis’ hand and begins to pull on some plastic gloves, the same one Max used.

"Max? I think we’re done here." Zayn tells him.

But instead of leaving, Zayn pulls a table around and starts to fiddle with the needles. Max looks around and tilts his head, but shrugs anyway and leaves the room.

"What are you doing?" Louis asks, still whispering harshly.

"I’ll just ink you instead." He states simply, then looks up to Louis’ terrified expression, “You trust _me_ don’t you?"

Louis has to shake his head a few times and close his eyes, “What? You’re a tattoo artist as well?"

When he opens his eyes in disbelief, Zayn’s already nodding.

"Yeah. But my career hasn’t really taken off."

Louis looks bewildered, and refuses to look at what Zayn’s doing to prepare. He leans back into the recliner weakly, and closes his eyes as he swallows his fear.

"Alright, babe. You ready?"

Louis lets out a squeak, “no."

Zayn takes his arm gently and massages it with his thumb until he reaches his hand, “It’ll be okay, I’ll talk you through it."

"No, don’t do that. Just…" He lets out a sigh, “just do it."

There’s a flick, and then a sound of something electronic starts. Louis flinches, but his arm stays still from Zayn holding it. It’s faced upwards, and something’s placed on the skin just below his wrist, but Louis’ too scared to look so he just assumes it’s the outline.

And then it starts. The initial fright of the needle pressed to the skin makes Louis squeal a bit, and one of his eyes open accidentally. But he doesn’t chance looking at the needle, and instead watches Zayn.

The amount of concentration on his face seems to settle Louis, but only a little bit, since when Zayn’s hand curves, Louis lets out a sound of pain and Zayn’s expression changes to apologetic.

But he’s doing well, Louis thinks. And Zayn takes a break to go back to the table, or to wipe stuff off Louis’ skin, and Louis just watches Zayn the whole time.

His jaw clenches whenever he starts to tattoo again, and Louis’ heart is going so fast he doesn’t know whether it’s because Zayn looks extremely hot or because he’s sitting here getting a fucking tattoo.

But either way it makes his blood rush and his mind fuzzy, and he can finally see why Zayn enjoys this so much.

"Alright," Zayn says, and it’s like a bullet through a soundproof room because everything seemed so spaced out and silent during that time, “it’s all done, Lou."

That was it?

Zayn wipes it again a few times before Louis finally plucks up the courage to look down at his own arm.

It’s small, (thank God) and still red here and there, but Zayn promises that fades after a while. He brings it closer to his eyes and smiles.

"Sparrows?"

"They mean freedom."

 _Wow_ , Louis thinks, his smile growing wider. _Wow_.

He grabs the sides of Zayn’s face and kisses him, muttering a thank you here and there. And Zayn wraps Louis’ tattoo up like a present and leads him out.

"You gonna pay for that?" Mary, who’s now awake and cranky, makes them both turn around as they’re about to exit.

"Don’t be stupid, girl." Max tells her from the back room, “On the house, Zayn and friend."

"Thanks, man!" Zayn waves, “see you soon!" He turns to Mary who’s glaring at him and says, “Bye, Maz."

She grumbles something and shakes her head, and Zayn takes Louis’ hand as they leave.

"So, how’d you like it?" Zayn asks him as they’re entering his street.

"Wasn’t scared at all." Louis lies, and Zayn laughs.

They get to the horror of a drive-way and Zayn pulls Louis around the back of the house before Louis tries and attempts to run it again. He takes him through a gate, then through the enchanted backyard, through to his back door. And Louis gapes because, “How come you never told me that existed?"

And Zayn disappears into his room as Louis lies on the couch watching some soap opera that’s really not interesting at all, and sits up when he hears Zayn finally coming back out.

He sits next to Louis in a normal outfit and a bag, obviously filled with his stripper clothes and God knows what else, and kisses him good-bye.

"I’ll wait for you until you get back from your shift." Louis promises.

"I’ll be home after one."

"Don’t kiss too many boys." Louis warns bringing him in for another kiss.

Zayn bits Louis’ lip, “Never."

 


	11. One Day I'll Love You

"Hi, Lou." Harry chimes over the phone.

"Harry! Guess what?"

"…What?"

"I got a tattoo!"

Louis’ been doing nothing but admiring it ever since Zayn left. The joy and realisation of it all keeps firing Louis up in the best way, his excitement uncontrollable.

"Are you serious?" Harry exhales into the phone in disbelief, “Your mum’s gonna kill you!"

Louis shrugs, then realises he’s on the phone, “Yeah… But for the first time I guess I don’t care."

"Wow, man." There’s a smile in Harry’s voice, “Where is Louis and what have you done with him?"

Louis laughs into his hand, “He’s still here!"

"Good." Harry says, and then pauses for a few seconds. “I like the new you."

Louis laughs again, this time unsure, “What _are_ you on about, Harry?"

"You know what I mean. You’re more… chilled out. Taking risks and shit. It’s nice."

"Oh."

"You’re starting to remind me of the Louis I knew back in kindergarten."

Louis looks at the ground and rubs his eyes. He falls back onto Zayn’s bed and feels like the biggest idiot ever.

"I vanished there for a little bit, didn’t I?"

"Worst two years of my life."

He’s joking, but that doesn’t hide the fact that there’s a sharp pain in Louis’ side. _Man_ he feels like a dick.

"Sorry about that." Louis replies, his voice soft and genuine.

"It’s okay." Harry tells him, and Louis wants to kick himself because maybe he wasn’t joking. “I’m just glad you’re back."

-

It’s 1:02am and yes Louis knows he’s just being a worry wart, staying up and waiting until he hears the front door open. But Zayn said he’ll be home after one, he _said_.

Louis gets up out of bed when the clock strikes 1:05 and makes himself a small cup of tea. And as he waits for the water to boil, he takes the chance to look at what he remembers being such a magnificent garden and wonders if it looks the same at night-time.

When he steps outside, an automatic light turns on near the balcony, lighting up the entire yard. But it stops once it reaches the van, leaving it in the shadows. There’s only one tree, and it’s at the very corner. It’s a maple, so the leaves and blossoms have fallen, making a carpet of pink around it.

Louis also wonders if that’s what Zayn does when he’s not out working or partying or sleeping. He’s outside gardening and making sure everything looks neat. And suddenly he _really_ wants to see Zayn outside in the sun. With his shirt off. Mowing the lawn with his skin glistening with sweat as it runs down his chest, down to his-

The ear-piercing squeal of the kettle boiling interrupts his thoughts, and he’s confined to get back inside and pour it into his cup.

1:10 am

 _Okay,_ Louis thinks, _if he’s not home in 20 minutes I’m calling him._

And no, he’s not being over-protective. Because it’s ten past one in the fucking morning, and he’s at a strip club in the most popular place in town. With big, strong men _everywhere_.

Big, strong men that could destroy him in a second. Big, strong men that could be far more attractive and irresistible than little, afraid Louis.

Shit.

Louis takes a sip of his tea and decides it’s probably better to distract him in case he worries any further. So he resorts to the television, where repeats of Geordie Shore are playing, and Louis thinks that’s good enough.

1:29 am and Louis can’t wait another minute.

He dials in Zayn’s number and lets it ring.

And ring.

And ring.

Until it reaches voicemail. “Hi, it’s Zayn, uh, leave a message. Bye."

So Louis tries again, and tries his best to ignore that gut feeling that something bad has happened.

Ringing. Ringing. Ringing.

Still no answer.

And that’s all he needs to hear for Louis to call a taxi and ride to Zayn’s work.

-

Entering the street, Louis already knows it’s over-packed like always. It’s the loudest club on the strip, and he can hear the shouts and hoots if all the makes inside of there over the blasting techno music that Louis despises.

He pays the non-English taxi driver the money, and gets to the entrance where, for the first time, has had to queue up before being let in.

There’s a loud sound of them all cheering, and Louis checks his watch. 1:50 am.

 _Maybe he’s had an encore?_ Louis guesses, standing on his tippy toes and craning his neck to get a better look. But all he sees is heads and more heads which isn’t doing him any favours.

The bouncer out front points to Louis and brings him to the front, which is only a few people before him, and says that he can enter.

"Really? But-" Louis gestures to the two greasy looking guys and the butch looking girl that he was told to overtake.

But the bouncer just shrugs, “They need more petite ones in there. Off you go."

"Oh… thanks?"

Louis enters the place frowning. Petite? Honestly?

He shakes it off and checks towards the stage Zayn’s usually on. But there’s no Zayn, just some other lad Louis’ never seen before.

And he starts to get worried. Like _really_ worried. And his hands and forehead are starting to sweat so much in anxiety he can guarantee the sweat isn’t because of this stuffy atmosphere.

But he breathes out in relief once he sees Liam working at the bar. Trust-worthy Liam. The one that showed up to Zayn’s party when nobody else had. Yeah, he’d know where Zayn was, he always has an eye on him.

"Liam," Louis says once he’s at the bar. But there’s so many people asking him for drinks he’s rushing around and serving people that he doesn’t hear him. “Liam!"

He looks up vaguely, “Hey, Louis."

His voice is puffed out, and his face is flustered and he’s racing around so much Louis hasn’t seen anyone move this fast before.

So he waits until Liam makes his way over to his side of the counter until he asks.

"Have you seen Zayn?"

And Liam stops. He turns on his feet and looks at the analogue clock behind him, then spins around back towards the stage where, of course, no Zayn is found.

"Shit. I’m not sure."

The levels in his voice aren’t easy to hear. And it doesn’t soothe Louis at all.

"He’s supposed to be finished by now!"

"It’s okay, I’m sure he’s okay. He’s probably just caught up, that’s all."

And Louis looks at him with doubt. Because come _on_ it’s basically two in the morning now and if he’s in a car on the way home while Louis is here waiting for him, Louis will surely shoot himself in the foot. Probably.

So he calls him once more. Same thing happens, straight to voicemail.

Louis grunts out in frustration, which catches Liam’s attention.

"Okay, let’s go." He throws his tea towel down onto the table top and jumps over the counter.

He takes a hold of Louis’ arm and leads him around the crowd of people, to a door that says ‘Staff Only.’ Liam unlocks it with the key from around his neck, and they both cop a huge intake of smoke as the door opens.

Louis finds himself coughing as Liam waves his hand around to try and clear it. It’s filled with every boy stripper that’s ever gone on stage; it’s a no brainer to see how Zayn picked up this habit.

"Has anyone seen Zayn?" Liam calls out to them all, who have red eyes and a dopey smile.

They all look to their side once, and Louis can’t even see what they look like, he can only see their movements from the way the smoke follows them.

The room fills with, “Nah“‘s and “Sorry Liam“‘s, and Liam tugs on Louis’ arm again to yank him out of that smoke chamber.

They exist out the back entrance, and Louis can’t speak, he can’t feel anything, he’s so numb and so scared he just wants Zayn to be safe.

But Liam’s just as determined, as he’s walking so fast like a solider, moving his head left, right and centre in hopes of catching the slightest glimpse of Zayn. And his grip his so tight around Louis’ arm, but Louis’ just so numb he can’t even feel it.

They’ve walked half-way around the block, or so it feels like. And Louis is on the verge of giving in, calling the police and ordering a massive search party for this one boy.

Until something massive smashes right into his body.

Liam has stopped, and after Louis recollects himself and pulls apart from him, Liam has his free hand up to his ear.

"D’you hear that?"

Louis listens carefully. And like a mouse, but an angry mouse, he can hear it.

"Suck me off! Fucking suck me off! This is what I paid you to do, faggot!"

And the pair of them are running. They’re running so fast with the cold air going through their lungs and their feet hitting the ground hard. They run until they reach it.

A big, strong, (and drunk) man has him up against the wall. Both of his hands on Zayn’s shoulders, pressing him into it like he’s nothing. And Zayn.

Zayn’s standing there, knees weak, his whole body weak. He’s trying so hard to push and shove him off but it’s really no use. He’s groaning in pain but it only takes a second for Louis and Liam to react.

As soon as Zayn spots them at the corner of his eye, the feral attacker leans in, his filthy beard smeared with booze as it runs across the edge of Zayn’s jawline.

And the man has him there, locked down with no way out, going in to kiss him.

 


	12. Everything You Do

"Hey!" Louis yells, "Get the fuck away from him!"

And then it all happens too fast.

Louis’ voice breaks half-way through that cry, realising what he’s doing. Zayn locks eyes with him, his whole face submitted with fear.

"Louis, no!"

Liam’s there, clenched fists and jaw, eyeing out the situation before he attacks.

But the man turns around grimly before Liam can even take a step forwards. He eyes them each off one by one, his evil, beady eyes slowly escalating from their shoes to their heads, his teeth gritted.

He spits on the ground, “Fuck off.”

Zayn tries his best to squirm away, but he gets pinned down harder. The man starts kissing Zayn’s neck and Louis darts over to Liam, wondering why the fuck he hasn’t done anything yet.

"Sir, he doesn’t want you there. Step away." Liam says, voice loud and heard. Louis admires his self-control, but also wants to tap him out of it so he can just abuse the ugly man instead.

The man’s head stops tormenting Zayn’s neck and heaves out a sigh of frustration. He turns around fully now, but still has his back pressed up to Zayn’s body. Who, Louis notices, is crying.

Zayn. Crying.

Louis looks to Liam urgently again. How can he not _see_ this?

"Oh yeah, why’s that?" The man asks Liam, his voice husky and cancerous, and Louis can almost smell his breath from where he’s standing.

"He’s my boyfriend!" Louis hears himself spit out, before he can stop. His finger’s pointing stressfully towards Zayn.

The middle-aged, drunk man cranes his neck over to Louis. And if he felt small before, he sure as hell feels ant-sized now.

He’s furious, the man. And as he takes a huge step towards Louis, his body comes off of Zayn.

Louis wants to scream. Zayn falls to the ground, since nothing else is holding him up anymore. He’s gagging, holding his neck, and coughing harshly, which is putting him in even more pain.

Louis wants nothing more than to run over there and help him. But there’s this heavy, tall, bearded, scary figure heading towards him with anger in his eyes.

In Louis’ eyes there’s hate and a feeling inside of him that makes him want to throw up. He darts his frightful orbs towards Liam, who’s still just standing there, face calm, but a body full of shaking anger.

The man doesn’t stop until he’s a foot length away from Louis. He stares him down like nothing else, and there’s venom in his voice.

"I don’t fucking care if he’s your fucking property." He’s whispering, but it’s not very soft, and it’s harsh in Louis’ ear, making him cringe. "I paid for him, he’s mine. Got it? He belongs to _me_ , not you.” His cold eyes scan Louis up and down once again, this time a smirk appears on his face, “You fucking nerdy little cunt."

Louis can see massive hands rise up to his neck, and he braces himself. He hears Zayn call out something weakly, then cough. He’s about to be choked, he can feel it already. He’s about to be knocked out or killed - and even then the only thing that worries him is not being able to protect Zayn.

But it’s all happening so fast Louis doesn’t even realise the man’s already on the ground before his hands could even reach his throat.

Then Liam’s standing over him with a clenched fist and it all makes sense.

The filthy rapist lies there cold, his nose bleeding. And they all know he’s not going to wake up soon.

But Louis leaps over him as fast as he can and is at Zayn’s side in a second. He lifts up his face gently and Zayn stops coughing.

"Where are you hurt?"

Zayn shakes his head and swallows before he can talk. Tears start to well up again and Louis has to bring everything in himself not to cry with him.

"He grabbed me so tightly, Lou."

His voice is weaker than his body, coming out in one breath of air, hardly audible.

Louis takes a look at him, and there are obvious marks on his collarbones and arms from where he’s been pressed. And there’s a mark on his neck, but that might have been from the kissing.

Louis tries not to think about that.

"Fuck, Zayn." Louis breathes, shaking his head, "You can’t let this happen."

"I know."

He helps him up, and Zayn swings his arm around Louis’ shoulder as Louis’ arm wraps around his waist in support.

They both look over at Liam. Who’s currently kicking into the same unconscious man he punched.

"That’s enough Liam; I think your punch pretty much did it." Zayn calls out, and Liam looks over with a smile.

"Just making sure!"

He turns back and kicks him in the stomach again.

 _Just_ to make sure.

-

Turns out the only places he’s hurt is his winded stomach and a few spots on his cheek from where the man had slapped and punched him. And the thought of Zayn being pushed and shoved and abused like that makes Louis’ face go white and his insides churn.

The three of them enter Zayn’s house, and Louis asks them all if they just want to sleep. Since it is now quarter to three in the morning.

"In a minute," Zayn replies, "let me just wash off all of this… all of him."

He disappears into the bathroom and Louis can finally explode. He shudders, then lets out a frustrated noise, then falls back into the couch and brings his knees up to his chest.

He feels Liam next to him, and he’s being wrapped into his body securely with one arm. Louis automatically falls into him, resting his head on his shoulder.

"He’ll be okay. You know that." Liam soothes him, and his voice is so calm and reassuring Louis almost smiles.

"Will he be, though? What if he’s not?"

"Physically, he seems fine. And mental-"

"Mentally, psychologically, emotionally? Won’t he be like, traumatised?" Louis can’t even recognise his own voice right now. It’s so high-pitched and full of concern; he can’t even remember the last time he felt like this.

"He’s okay." Liam repeats, "If there’s one thing I can promise you, it’s that."

Louis doesn’t know how long Liam and him stayed on the couch when Zayn comes out of the shower, but Louis knows his feelings towards this event haven’t changed.

Zayn walks into the room, hair still partially wet, with nothing but boxers on. He collapses on the other side of Liam, and Louis’ eyes follow him the whole way.

"Why are we sitting here? Thought we were goin’ to bed." Zayn says, as if he hadn’t basically just been molested.

He was acting fine, like it was all good and it was just another night at work. As though his boyfriend wasn’t (and still is) as scared as he’s ever been.

And nobody replies to him. It’s not purposeful, but they don’t react to the question. Since it was irrelevant. Or something.

"Oh, by the way," Zayn continues, slapping the back of his hand to Liam’s chest lightly, "the DVD player’s been actin’ up lately. I don’t know what’s wrong with it."

So _smoothly_ , and Louis has to crease his forehead because what the fuck is this a dream?

Liam lets out an intrigued sound and gets up off the couch to have a look. Zayn automatically moves closer in, kissing Louis’ lips softly. But Louis can’t kiss back.

Zayn leans into him, looking at him confused. Is it so _fucking_ easily forgotten? Does this happen all the time?

Zayn’s stroking Louis’ knee, waiting for an answer to his unspoken question. And when Louis speaks, it’s like when Zayn spoke after being hurt. Soft and almost inaudible.

"What if we didn’t come? What if Liam wasn’t there?"

There’s a flicker of something in Zayn’s expression that Louis doesn’t catch. But he masks it with carelessness. It doesn’t do much, though, since Louis can see straight through his charade.

"Babe, I would’ve been fine." He says, and the way he says ‘babe’ almost makes Louis hate the word. "I think he was close to passing out anyway, the amount of liquor I could smell coming out of his-"

"Zayn, how many times has this happened before?"

Louis’ almost scared to ask it. But it’s out there, it’s said. Now all that’s to come is the answer.

"That was the only time."

Lie.

"Tell me the truth."

Zayn swallows once, and edges away a little bit. Liam’s stopped now, and Louis doesn’t think he was really taking at a look at the DVD player anyway.

"Uh… Okay. Like, twice? Three times?"

"Try six." Liam mumbles.

And Zayn darts a look to tell him to shut up but it’s too late.

"Six?!" Louis can feel his body warm up.

But not the good kind of warm - the kind that makes your hand shake and face steam - and he doesn’t know what he’s mad at, but he’s mad.

"That’s it, no." He continues. Shaking his head, "That’s too dangerous."

"What?"

"That job… if you can even call it that," he mumbles that last part, "is way too dangerous. You’ve gotta quit, I don’t want you hurt again."

Zayn lets out a sound of disbelief, looking at Louis like he just grew another head, “Thanks, _dad._ But I’m pretty sure I can fend for myself.”

"You’re sure? Really? Because last time I checked, if I hadn’t have found Liam and gone looking for you, your body would be a lot more fucked up than it is right now."

"I told you," Zayn says, extenuating each word, "he was _about_ to _pass out."_

"You were crying for God’s sake! You were on the floor in pain!"

"Yeah, well, every job has consequences, okay? Mine’s just-"

"The risk of getting raped? Killed? Yeah, I’m sure that’s the price you want to pay to _get_ paid."

Liam’s out of the room. Louis thinks he bailed as soon as his name was mentioned.

Zayn’s standing up. They’re both standing up now, eye level. His jaw’s clenched and his eyes are intense. Louis’ still furious, but he’s not even angry at Zayn; he’s just taking it out on him. And to his surprise, Zayn’s fighting back.

"Okay," He begins again, trying to stay calm. "I know I freaked you out a little there. But can’t you see I’m fine?"

"This isn’t the only time you’re gonna be fine." Louis backfires, shoving out his hand, palm up towards Zayn, "If _this_ has happened six times, what’s stopping even more feral old men to do it six more times? And it _is_ gonna happen, you know. You strip off your fucking clothes and sell yourself-"

"I _sell_ myself?"

Fuck.

Zayn’s looking at him, infuriated with eyes that are set to destroy. “Is that what you think I do?”

"No! No! I was just-"

"I know you’ve always hated what I do but fuck, Louis. There’s a difference between dancing on a pole and fucking prostitution, okay?"

As much as Louis tries to deny it, the tears that are pricking at the sides of his eyes are starting to show.

"I _know_ that Zayn." One tear fills up his eye and his voice is breaking, but he can’t stop it. "I just want you to get a safer job so I don’t have to worry about you."

"Nobody’s asking you to worry about me. Like I said, I can fend for _myself_." He takes a step and Louis reacts, stepping backwards, "This is the only job I could land. No doubt every other prissy fucking place won’t hire me, will they? Who fucking gives a shit if it has downsides! I’m not gonna give it up because you don’t _accept_ it."

Louis shakes his head as he looks to the ground, tears fall down his cheek quickly, making water stains on the carpet and prays that Zayn won’t yell at him for that. He hates it when Zayn yells.

But Louis looks up again to Zayn who’s got a hand in his hair and his eyes squeezed shut.

He takes one look at Louis, contemplates for the slightest second to comfort him, and then shakes his head.

"Fuck this." He groans with frustration, and walks straight passed Louis, almost knocking his shoulder.

The slam of the door triggers the tears. He’s a crying disaster and Liam hesitates at the doorway of the living room as Louis stands in a defeated mess, afraid to look anywhere but his own shoes.

Liam drives him home that night, not a word spoken.

There are dried up trails of tears down Louis’ cheeks, but he doesn’t care. His eyes are red and his throat hurts but he really does not care. He doesn’t care about anything anymore. Now that he doesn’t have Zayn.

-

~*~ 4:29 am ~*~

Some say crying makes you look weak. And it does. It’s the weakest thing you could possibly do in an argument.

To cry is a terrible thing to do. Especially in front of somebody you’ve spent so long trying to look strong in front of.

And Louis sits in a ball on his bed - not crying, though. He’s done with that - and he wonders if Zayn cried, too.

He wonders what he’s feeling, thinking. If he even regrets what he said and acted. Because Louis sure does. Louis regrets everything.

There’s emptiness in his stomach. And it’s not because he hasn’t eaten for twenty-eight hours, no. It’s more a pain than emptiness. And it’s so cliché Louis could cry again.

But he doesn’t.

Because crying makes him weak.

 _Moping_ makes you weak. It’s probably the second worst thing you could do after crying. Then it’s isolation. And as much as Louis tries to deny it, he’s done all three of those things.

 _Zayn_. He had a fight with _Zayn_.

But Liam drove him home, so does that mean it wasn’t that bad? Maybe if it was bad, Liam would’ve sent him home, made him walk.

But it was bad.

It was terrifying.

And Louis tries to stay strong, he does. But then he catches sight of the tattoo on his arm and breaks down again.

~*~ 11:45 am ~*~

The clock strikes a quarter to twelve in the afternoon when Louis realises sitting in bed isn’t going to make him feel better at all.

The sun shines in from his window, and his stomach’s grumbling so much he has to roll over to shut it up.

But it wants attention and grumbles again, and Louis groans when he realises there’s nothing else to do but finally get up.

And when he’s struggling to pull his weight up off his bed, he remembers back to the time he last felt like this. A few months ago. But for a whole different reason. Same person, but just a different reason.

He eventually shuffles into the kitchen, his eyes squinting from the brightness shining through the big windows. He feels like a vampire. Or a zombie. Or a massive dick head. Probably both.

He could go to class, sit there, still moping and learn nothing. Or, he could stay home, eat his feelings whilst moping, and pray that Zayn will appear at his doorstep apologising and kissing him.

And because he lives for hope, he stays home. Eats whatever he can find, and watches the door in case there’s a knock.

~*~ 2:03 pm ~*~

His phone has not gone off once. And if that’s not a clear sign that Zayn isn’t keen on speaking, then nothing is.

Louis pouts, and chucks his phone on his bed in a huff. Then he stands in the middle of his room, hands on his hips as he looks around.

There’s a pile of work on his desk, but fuck that. There’s a pile of clothes to be washed on his bed, but fuck that too. And there’s also an old skateboard tossed around the side of his house that Louis can vaguely spot from his bedroom window.

It doesn’t take much for him to go outside and pick it up. He fiddles around with it, finds out what’s good and what’s not.

The board is still in perfect condition, paint’s completely chipped off but that doesn’t matter. The wheels don’t move, though. And Louis makes it his mission to get this working again.

~*~ 3:05 pm ~*~

He spins the newly attached wheels with his hands, smiling proudly at himself. They all spin in unison, and it’s taken him an hour to get it working again, but that’s okay.

Now it’s time to test it out.

He runs the board along the footpath with his hand first, making sure that it glides steadily and smoothly, and it does. Then he tries with his foot, getting in the feel of things first before he takes off.

He’s at the top of the street, just before it starts to curve down.

 _I’ve got this,_ he reassures himself, _it’s easy._

He breathes in, puts the board down and lays his foot on top. Then with one push off his other foot, he’s going.

He makes himself stable as both feet are on the board, and he’s gliding down so fast but he has it. He’s in control and he’s skating.

The wind rushes passed his face, whipping him so hard. But he’s _smiling_. He’s grinning so much and he’s going so fast it’s like he’s a kid again.

The hill ends, and as he slows to a stop, he’s still smiling when he’s running back up to the top to do it all over again.

Three times down and Louis’ having the time of his life. He can’t wait to do tricks again and re-learn all the cool things he once knew how to do.

And skating down the hill the fourth time in a row, Louis starts to forget about Zayn. Not completely, and not as much as he hoped, but he forgets.

~*~ 4:52 pm ~*~

Forgetting is an exaggeration. You only _truly_ forget if there’s a problem with you. Like Alzheimer’s or a brain tumour.

Whoever says they forget when they’re perfectly fine is lying.

And Louis might not be perfectly fine, but he’s lying.

Because as he drops his board and kicks it into the fire hydrant, he sits down with the foggy image from his tears of the one tattoo that he accidentally caught sight of.

And remembers.

-

The next day, Louis screams into his pillow. Because there’s such an annoying sensation in his body that he can’t get rid of and the only way to release it is to scream and punch things.

So he punches his pillow and screams in it once more. Then he apologises because it really is a good pillow.

But the feeling hasn’t gone; it’s still there overpowering him like nothing else. It’s _anger_ and _frustration_.

Angry and frustrated at himself more than anything. He’s _annoyed_ because he can’t find the balls to start a conversation with Zayn first. He’s too _afraid_ to even send him some lame text saying ‘hi’.

When the fuck did he become so weak?

But he knows how to overcome it. A text isn’t going to do anything for him because a text means getting a reply. And Louis doesn’t think he can cope with that much anticipation and nail-biting.

So he shoves his phone into his back pocket and locks the front door behind him once he’s outside. He’s glad nobody’s stolen his hand-repaired skateboard - because there’s really no other way to get anywhere other than to walk - and begins to skate towards Zayn’s.

He has to keep reminding himself to breathe and keep breathing. Because he’s so nervous and his mind is propelling through one hundred and fifty things at once it’s almost impossible to focus on his lungs.

But he has to pat himself on the back. Because he keeps going, there’s doubt and fear running through his veins but he doesn’t stop.

And he doesn’t know if it’s because his foot is just running on auto-pilot or if he’s actually being strong for once, but he’s proud of himself.

Until he’s reached Zayn’s street and realises what he’s actually doing.

What if he doesn’t want to see him? What if he opens the door and slams it back in his face? What if Zayn’s been waiting for Louis to come so he can end things?

Woah.

That last thought hits Louis like a tonne of bricks and he thinks he might fall over.

But he swallows his fear and picks up his board, unable to keep stable anymore, and keeps on walking.

It’s _Zayn_. It’s Zayn. It’s only Zayn.

Louis knows Zayn. A lot. It’s obvious that Louis isn’t used to conflict but it was obvious that Zayn was mad. At him.

And if Louis recalls properly, (of course he recalls it properly, it’s the only thing that’s been replaying in his mind for three days straight) the last thing Zayn said to him was,” _Fuck this_.”

But that could mean anything, couldn’t it?

It doesn’t mean that he wants to end things. That’s stupid. The whole argument was stupid, wasn’t it?

Louis kicks a loose rock in the pavement until he reaches Zayn’s mountain of a drive-way. And even though his car isn’t there and no lights are on, there’s a flicker of hope (or fear) that his car is in the garage and maybe Zayn’s in there watching a movie.

And instead of crawling up the hill, Louis remembers Zayn’s back route around the house. And if he could thank him every day for showing him it, he would.

Maybe that’s what he’ll say, thank you. No, he’ll apologise first, then say thank you. And then try and explain that he was wrong and that he hates fighting. And his job is what he wants to do and he shouldn’t care about-

The skateboard drops to the ground as Louis’ jaw goes with it.

He rubs his eyes, making sure this isn’t a dream. Or nightmare. Then he pinches himself, and he knows it’s real.

But he can’t believe it.

What used to be a beautiful garden is gone. Absolutely trashed. Nothing.

The garden beds have been demolished, the bushes look like they’ve literally been pulled out and thrown around. Every single flower has died, been torn out or cut off, and Louis still can’t believe it.

It’s like a gloomy, dark, _dumpster._

Even the caravan has smashed windows and dints on the side.

He picks up a rotten looking flower and shakes his head.

Did someone trash his house? It’s not even his house, though. The building itself is fine, it’s just the garden.

But maybe it was Zayn. How could Zayn do this? Was he really _that_ angry?

He imagines him on a rampage. With trimmers and big, fat boots on. A frown on his face as he yells and tramples all on his delicate, once beautiful flowers. Destroying everything in his path like a villain, forgetting how much time it took to grow it all.

Then Louis imagines Zayn stopping. Looking around after he’s calmed down and realising what he’s just done, how he’s just demolished everything he’s taken so much pride and joy in doing. And that realisation would’ve really stunned him.

"Terrible, isn’t it?"

Louis jumps at the voice. Not because it scared him, but because it’s so familiar and unexpected it creates tension straight away.

He turns and looks at Zayn, standing at the doorway of his back door. He looks like he’s just come out of bed, but his hair still looks perfect. _He_ is perfect.

And it’s like as soon as Louis sees him he just wants whatever this is to go away. He wants to forgive and forget and kiss him as hard as he can because _Zayn_.

But it’s not until he quirks an eyebrow, when Louis realises he’s just been asked a question.

"Oh... uh," Louis stutters, his fingers fiddling each other simultaneously. "It’s… looked better, I suppose."

Zayn looks him up and down, but his eyes are the only thing that moves.

"Skateboarding?"

"Yeah, I…" He picks up his dropped board and shows it off as he looks at it, "I decided to get back into it."

Zayn nods, “Cool.”

He hates this. He _hates_ this. It’s like they’ve never even met and they’re trying to make small talk. It’s as though there’s a million things to be said just floating in the air but neither of them can voice it.

"Zayn," Louis hears himself say, biting the bullet. "I just came around to say I’m really sorry. Your job has nothing to do with me and I’m-"

"It’s okay."

Louis frowns, “It’s okay?”

Zayn nods again, “Yeah.”

As much as Louis tries to avoid it, he looks away. His eyes dart everywhere, probably the most awkward thing to do at a time like this.

"…That’s all?"

Zayn folds his bottom lip and shrugs, “That’s why you came here, yeah? To be forgiven?”

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Then it’s done."

Louis frowns again, and takes a step forwards. “But I… Can I at least have a kiss?”

It took some great balls to ask that. But Zayn’s eyebrows rise and a smirk crosses his face.

"Sure," he says.

And Louis’ face lights up as Zayn takes a step forwards.

He presses his fingers to his lips and blows a kiss. Then turns around and vanishes back into his house.

_That fucking tease._

 


	13. I'll Be Beautiful For You

The night is warm, and the stars are already out once Louis dials in Harry’s number. He literally has not thought about anything else other than the fact that Zayn didn’t kiss him, or even invite him in. Is this what all gay couples do? Is this what every couple goes through?

It’s ringing, and Harry picks up half-way through the first ring.

"Louis." He says, sounding urgent.

"Harry, I-"

"Zayn says he’s sorry."

A whiplash of confusion strikes through Louis’ body, making him sit down on his bed from the force.

"What?"

"I spoke to him, I spoke to Zayn." Harry’s speaking the fastest Louis’ ever heard him talk.

"It’s okay, calm down."

He hears him take in a deep breath, “Zayn says he’s sorry.”

"Doesn’t seem like it." Louis tells him, "I went over there earlier today and he didn’t do much."

"What?" Harry asks, this time he’s the one confused, "Then how come I didn’t see you?"

"You were _there_?!"

"Yeah, I was there to help-"

"Sh!"

Is that why he shooed Louis off so quickly? Because he didn’t want Harry to know that he was there? Or did Zayn just decide to put Harry in front of him all of a sudden?

"Louis, don’t get mad. You should’ve seen him."

"Wait… what do you mean?"

"He was a complete wreck… I mean, have you _seen_ his garden?"

"Yeah, I did. It looks terrible."

"Wanna know what he did?"

"…Do I?"

"Liam told me everything. He said he’s never seen Zayn so angry in his life, he was going ape shit at his flowers, like he was King Kong or something."

Louis takes in a breath, then exhales even slower. Why would he take it out on them? Why couldn’t he have punched a wall or something instead?

"I don’t… understand."

"I know. Weird, aye?"

"Very."

"Tell you what’s even weirder? Apparently he didn’t even used to grow flowers until like two months ago. Liam was saying how he kept growing them and saying how beautiful things can be." Harry laughs, "He just thought it was all the weed he’s been smoking."

Louis tries to laugh with him but he can’t find the strength to. “He shooed me off today, you know.”

"Before I left he said he was gonna try and make things right between you two."

Louis frowns. It makes no fucking sense. Why the heck would he let him walk off if he was just going to chase after him anyway? Just a few hours later?

"Zayn’s not the brightest person."

Harry says, and it’s then that Louis realises he said everything he was thinking out loud.

But Harry’s comment makes him frown even more, “Hey! Watch it,”

Harry giggles away from the phone, and Louis stops thinking for a second. They both do, and it’s silent for a while.

Until Harry comes back, voice soft. “You love him a lot. Don’t you.”

"Yes," Louis says, without a pause, "so much. And I messed it all up. Again."

"I wouldn’t be so sure about that. He left fifteen minutes ago." Harry says a smile in his voice, "He’ll be there soon."

"What?"

"Psst."

Louis whips his head around to the sudden sound. He almost jumps back in fright when he sees him.

Zayn. Outside his window, with a sorry expression and a nervous smile.

Louis runs over and opens the window almost immediately, “Zayn! What the fuck? What are you doing? Mum will kill you if she sees you here!”

There are sixty other things he could’ve said, but worry and fear are the only things that managed to slip out of his mouth.

But Zayn just holds out his hand and says, “Come with me.”

And it’s like all the anxiousness inside Louis instantly drops out of his system. He smiles _but only a tiny bit_ and tells Harry he’ll have to call him back as he takes Zayn’s open hand.

-

They stay silent, but they continue holding hands as they walk side by side because it’s the only thing keeping Louis contained. Zayn’s taking him somewhere new, down the backstreets from all the houses, but they’re safe. The backstreets are safe because there’s a hand holding Louis’ and it’s so secure and comforting he couldn’t think about his whereabouts now.

They cross roads, walk along a dirt path, and jump over a lazy fence before Zayn lets go of Louis’ hand.

Louis reaches back out instinctively, but Zayn’s already occupied, climbing onto the back of what looks like a truck. He helps Louis up too, and all of a sudden they’re both sitting down next to each other on a steel platform looking out at a massive, empty park.

Zayn exhales out a huge breath and for some reason it makes Louis anxious. Zayn turns towards him, and takes Louis’ hand into his own, his thumbs brushing over the backs of Louis’ hands softly.

"I just want to apologise for being so fucked up."

Louis looks up at him, and even in the dark Zayn’s eyes still glisten so brightly.

He begins to shake his head, “Zayn, you’re not-”

"I wouldn’t have reacted like I did if I wasn’t." Zayn interrupts, his eyes gazing down at their hands, "I didn’t mean to like, scare you away or anything. I guess the situation just really got to me and I took it out on you and the worst part was that I didn’t think that you’d fight back, but you did and I’m just really sorry and I-"

"You’re not fucked up." Louis reassures him, squeezing his hands, "And even if you were, I’d still like you."

Zayn lets out a sigh of relief as his smile grows, and his face changes as though a light bulb appeared on top of his head and lit up.

"I’ve got something for you," he says, and lets go of Louis’ hands as he jumps off the back of the truck.

Louis’ forehead creases as he tries to peek around to the drivers’ seat where Zayn’s gone, but he can’t see anything in this darkness.

And Zayn shuts the door with two objects in his hands and a smile on his face. And it’s not until Zayn’s back where Louis is when it’s noticeable that there’s a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

He brings them to Louis and Louis holds them both as Zayn gets up to sit down next to him again.

Louis looks at him in admiration, “Wow.” He breathes, setting down the box and fiddling with the flowers he says, “I never knew you to be such a romantic.”

Zayn smirks at him, “You have no idea.”

And with that, he leans back over to the front of the truck and opens up a sealed crate-type thing, and brings out a bottle of something. There’s glasses, too, and Louis can definitely believe that he’s in a dream right now.

Zayn hands a filled glass to Louis and has one for himself. Then they sit there across from each other, the only source of light coming from the stars.

It’s so perfect. In the middle of a football oval, at night, with Zayn. There’s butterflies in Louis’ stomach all over again.

But there’s an itching question batting away in Louis’ mind, and he just has to ask it.

"Is it too soon to ask what happened to your garden?"

And there’s a slight flinch from Zayn once the question’s out in the open, but Louis stays still and waits.

"To be honest I don’t think you want to know."

The gut feeling in Louis’ stomach wrenches, because Zayn’s response was so cold and real, but yes of _course_ Louis wants to know.

So Louis nods his head and Zayn looks at him longer than necessary, then downs the rest of his glass and sets it down before he begins.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and shuffles around until he’s comfortable. And the whole time Louis doesn’t move, he’s not even sure if he’s breathing by this point, but that doesn’t matter.

"When I bought my first plant it was the day after I saw you in the club that night," Zayn begins, telling a story without looking at Louis, "I would’ve bought it that night, but the shops were closed then. And it was so weird because I remembered your face so clearly, and for some reason I kept buying plants and growing them every day because of it. I guess it was some kind of motivation or like, some kind of _hope_ that I’d see you again."

"So… you started gardening because you saw a face in the crowd?" Louis questions, his heart beating so fast. And if it weren’t for the dark, his bright cheeks would be so noticeable right now.

Zayn nods, “Liam thought I was going crazy, and to be fair I kind of was. I didn’t even know Harry was friends with you until that night at his party. Fuck, I can’t even explain to you what I was feeling when I saw you there.”

He shakes his head to himself, smiling. Reminiscing the events that took place that night. And Louis can’t even feel his fingertips or toes anymore because the amount of chills Zayn’s giving him are so cold it’s made his limbs go numb.

"After that I basically went spastic with all the plants and gardens and grew them all myself." Zayn continues, his fingers playing with the hem of his jeans as he sits cross-legged, "Each time I saw you the more my garden grew and I guess it was sort of like a symbol of what I feel whenever we’re like… near each other or something."

Zayn shrugs. And Louis’ so mesmerised in the story he forgets he’s actually there with him.

"Then when we had that fight…" Zayn trails off, and it takes a while for him to come back. "I guess that feeling turned upside down and I took it out on you, and what symbolised you."

"I didn’t know you were that angry," Louis whispers, afraid to disturb the daydream that Zayn’s created with his words.

"Neither did I." He agrees, then shrugs again. "But I think it made me realise what a mess I’d be if I lost you."

"I could say the same," Louis admits without thinking. And Zayn looks up at him with those big brown eyes and Louis already knows it’s his turn to tell a story. "You should see me when I don’t have you, I’m actually pathetic."

Louis laughs at himself and shakes his head, but on the inside he’s wanting to kick himself as hard as Liam kicked the predator, but numerous times.

"So, rationally speaking we’d both be probably hating life if we never met."

" _Probably_?" Louis says, his forehead crinkling, "I think you mean one hundred and ten fucking per cent positive we’d be hating life."

Zayn laughs, then Louis laughs, and Zayn stops laughing suddenly and Louis stops, too. Then Zayn moves in closer, his hand reaching to the back of Louis’ neck, his fingers fiddling with the stands of hair on the back of Louis’ head. Then he leans in real close and gives him a kiss that’s impossible to forget.

It’s filled with sorry’s and I promise’s and I love you’s and Louis’ all filled with happiness and infatuation and Zayn’s kissing him so delicately yet so forcefully and if it wasn’t for his stern hands holding Louis’ waist and neck, Louis’ so sure he could melt then and there.

But Zayn’s guiding Louis down towards the surface of the truck and Louis has no choice but to follow, and that’s how they end up lying down, next to each other.

Zayn’s on his side, pecking Louis’ face until Louis giggles, and Zayn pecks his mouth before saying, “I love you.”

And Louis looks him in the eyes, and he still can’t believe to this day that someone this perfect is actually his. And he’s saying I love you. And Louis hasn’t said anything yet.

So he smiles back quickly, pecks him again and repeats those three words over and over before Zayn has to shut him up with kisses.

And they’re both lying on their backs now, staring up at the stars. Louis’ head is on Zayn’s chest as Zayn’s hand flops over Louis’ shoulders lazily. It’s silent for a while, but when Zayn starts to talk it’s not sudden.

"I think we owe all of this to Harry. Don’t you think?"

Louis thinks about it for a while, then frowns a tiny bit. “Why? Because he forced me to watch you?”

"Yeah," Zayn replies, "if it weren’t for him I would have never gotten the chance to see your lovely face."

At that, Louis sits up. And Zayn takes this opportunity to take a sip of his drink that they left abandoned.

"You know I know you sucked Harry off, right?"

And Zayn spits his drink. Absolutely everywhere.

"He told you?" He asks, stunned. And Louis just nods, holding back his laugh. "Shit. I’m sorry."

He wipes his mouth and Louis can’t hold it back anymore. He leans in as he laughs and Zayn shakes his head.

"He didn’t tell me flat out, we were just talking about you and-"

"Oh, what’s that? You were talking about me?" Zayn smirks, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Hey, c’mon. Harry was so fascinated by you it was impossible to go a conversation without your name being mentioned."

"Mm, so you _did_ know my name? Mr I-play-hard-to-get."

"I wasn’t playing hard to get!"

"Yeah, sure you weren’t…" Zayn leans back, a huge grin plastered on his face.

"As far as I’m concerned I wasn’t interested."

"If you weren’t interested why did you get the biggest boner I’ve ever seen when I danced on you?"

"Because I-" Louis begins, but cuts himself short because _shit_ he doesn’t have an explanation for that.

He digs his head in his hands as Zayn laughs away. And Louis’ thanking God in his head it’s dark. Because he’s pretty sure he has the brightest cheeks in existence right now.

"When did you become such a douchebag?"

"Aw," Zayn coos, wrapping an arm around Louis’ shoulder, "I think it’s cute."

"A boner can’t be _cute_."

"Sure it can. I’ve seen plenty that are cute."

" _Zayn_." Louis warns, and Zayn shoots an apologetic look.

"Sorry, you probably didn’t need to know that."

But Louis looks at the way Zayn’s eyes gaze to the ground. He looks at the way his eyebrows crease together for a few seconds the same time his jaw clenches. He’s frustrated with himself, he’s been feeling it ever since he appeared at Louis’ window sill, but Louis wants him to know that he doesn’t have to be frustrated. Not at all.

So he shrugs, “Doesn’t matter.” And takes Zayn’s hand spontaneously, earning a curious smirk.

"Where are you taking me?"

"I just think the grass is way too perfect right now."

"…So, you’re suggesting we ruin it, right?"

"Why the fuck not?" Louis says with a smile, pulling out a handful of grass and throwing it up in the air, "Nothing deserves to be this perfect."

And Zayn stands there, smiling at his boyfriend fondly, “Since when did Louis Tomlinson become such a rebel?”

"I’ve always been a rebel," Louis says, lying through his teeth. He walks forward and wraps his arms around Zayn’s waist, "a strong one, at that."

And before Zayn can laugh at him, Louis’ hold on Zayn’s body becomes an advantage, and tackles him to the floor. It doesn’t take long for Zayn to react and flip Louis onto his back, his arms pinned at the top of his head as Zayn straddles his hips with a smirk.

"Could you let me win at least once?" Louis sighs, actually unable to move an inch with Zayn on top of him.

But Zayn shakes his head, “Hell no. I’ve worked hard to get you, now you have to pay.”

"No," Louis comments, fidgeting underneath him, "you have to make me want to stay, first."

"Well," Zayn quirks an eyebrow, "we both know that’s easy."

He leans down and plants a kiss on his lips. Zayn’s are soft and tender, firstly caressing Louis’ before he finally opens his mouth and lets him in. Then he’s filled with nothing but Zayn and of course it’s easy to stay. With a kiss like that he’ll stay forever.

But not now.

Because Louis can feel Zayn’s grip on his wrists loosen, and his whole body become floppy. And Louis sees this as an opportunity.

He wedges his hands between his stomach and Zayn’s, and at the same time stops kissing him and rolls over - instantly pinning his hands above his head like Zayn did to him, and locks his body in with his thighs on either side.

"You’re getting grass stains on your jeans." Zayn observes, looking down at Louis’ kneecaps, obviously trying to get him distracted.

But Louis just shrugs, “Don’t care.”

And Zayn widens his eyes a little bit because Louis’ getting dirty and _he doesn’t care_. But it’s the thought of Louis _being_ dirty that seems to turn him on, because there’s a flash of want in Zayn’s eyes, and at the same time; he’s sitting up, wrapping Louis’ legs around his waist and kissing him.

His hand is placed on the small of Louis’ back, while his other hand is cupped behind his ear, his fingers grabbing at Louis’ hair tenderly. And Louis doesn’t even know what just happened because he _swore_ he was pinning Zayn down a split second ago. And now he’s sitting on top of him making out.

Zayn’s hand moves down, and Louis’ so conscious of it even though his mind is a thousand feelings all at once. But he feels it, Zayn’s fingers moving down his back first, then his hand following. It’s so slow and caressing that Louis could shiver with delight, and when he reaches his ass he almost could.

There’s a tight squeeze, but it’s not sudden, it kind of goes with the rocking motion they’ve found themselves in, and Louis only realises that his own fingers are digging into Zayn’s back when his eyes open for a little bit and sees it.

But he also catches a light in the distance, and frowns. He stops kissing Zayn to get a better look, and it seems something like a torch.

"Are we supposed to be here?" Louis asks him, squinting his eyes to make sure.

But Zayn just mumbles, and Louis has to pull him away so Zayn can detach his lips from Louis’ collarbone and reply.

He points towards the direction of the light and Zayn turns his neck to see it too. It’s coming closer, so it must be a security guard.

"Shit," Zayn growls, and Louis climbs off him so he can stand up. "C’mon."

He takes Louis’ hand and they run towards the truck, jumping into the front seats as Zayn wastes no time turning on the engine.

"You took me to a no-go zone?" Louis asks him as Zayn reverses along the oval.

And as Zayn shifts the car into drive, he spits out a laugh, “ _No-go zone_? Really?”

Louis frowns, “Shut-up.”

And Zayn throws his head back with laughter, and the sound is mixed in with the security guard running towards them and yelling, and Zayn’s foot slamming down on the accelerator.

They’re both pulled back into their seats as the car jolts forward, slamming down the chained gate they had to climb over, as the car rolls on top. Louis looks into the mirror and sees the slightly over-weight guard start to slow down as he attempts to run where the tracks Zayn left were imprinted on the grass.

But they’re out of there in no time, on the road like normal. And for some reason Louis’ out of breath and his heart’s beating faster than usual.

And Zayn’s still laughing.

"You okay, babe?" He asks, not the slightest bit concerned.

"He’s gonna remember the number plate, isn’t he. He’ll track us down, oh my God. We’re gonna be on the run forever, we have to turn ourselves in, we can’t run we’re not-"

"Hey, hey, hey," Zayn’s voice enters Louis’ ears as calm as possible, and with one hand on the steering wheel and one hand now on Louis’ thigh, he starts to cool him down, "it’s all okay. This isn’t even my car, Louis. We’re not criminals."

Louis swallows deeply, and looks at Zayn, “Really?”

He nods, “Mhm.” But then his eyes catch something and suddenly he’s tapping his pockets and sighing and turning the car into the servo station car park, “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Louis frowns, “But Zayn, what are you-”

But Zayn’s already closing the car door and entering the store with his hands in his pockets and his hood on. The light’s on inside, so Louis can see exactly what he’s doing. The store clerk doesn’t even notice him entering, he’s looking at a magazine that looks pornographic and has an all too creepy smile on his face as he looks at it.

Louis shudders and switches his attention to Zayn.

It looks like he’s searching for surveillance cameras, and when he finds none where he is, he takes a quick look at the clerk and vanishes into one of the aisles, out of peripheral vision.

But then Zayn’s strutting out, still no notice from the horny man behind the counter, and hops in the car like normal.

Louis inspects him, and then notices the newly wrapped cigarette packet in his pocket.

He grabs it and frowns, “Did you just steal this?”

"I wouldn’t say _stealing_ -"

"You walked right in there and didn’t pay!"

"He hardly noticed I was there, it’s cool."

Louis gives up and throws the packet onto the dashboard with a sigh, leaning back into the leather seat as he folds his arms across his chest. “So you _are_ a criminal.”

And Zayn just shrugs, “Probably.”

The look Louis gives him next is enough for Zayn to jolt back a little and widen his eyes. He turns defensive, and leaves the car sitting for a while.

"Oh, c’mon. You’re telling me that you haven’t done _anything_ illegal in your life?"

Louis thinks about it. He’s done some things, but nothing against the law. So he shakes his head.

"What?" Zayn says in disbelief, "So you haven’t even like, peed in public?"

"Oh. Well, I mean I have peed in a public toilet before but I don’t think-"

"Ah man." Zayn turns in his seat and starts the car, shaking his head. "Louis, Louis, Louis."

"What? What have I done wrong now?"

"It’s what you haven’t done."

"You want me to break the law?" Louis asks him, and Zayn pauses for a little while, then nods slightly. "Fine. Fine, I’ll do something illegal. Give me something, go."

A smirk plays on Zayn’s lips, but he doesn’t fully let it show. “What’s one thing you _really_ hate?”

Louis doesn’t have to think about it for long before he responds, “University.”

This time, Zayn smirks all the way as he speeds up, turning a corner. “Perfect.”

-

Zayn’s car is parked a few metres away from Louis, who turns back for what seems like the fiftieth time, asking if the coast is clear.

He grins back, nods enthusiastically, and waves his hands towards him to tell Louis to start.

And Louis sucks in a deep breath, shakes the can once more, pops the cap, and places his first finger on top of the nozzle in preparation. He remembers in high school, there was vandalism almost every week, one of them being spray paint on the side of the building. It was a big ‘fuck you’ in capital letters, next to a symbol of a hand sticking up the middle finger.

Louis remembers being disgusted, and disappointed in whoever would diss their school like that.

But that was then, and this is now.

He looks back at Zayn again for good measure, and of course he prompts him again, showing the gesture of spray painting.

And Louis smiles, nods, and begins.

It’s not as though he’s a thug, or a ‘rebel’, and it’s not because he sucks at his major so he has to hate the university. It’s because, one part of him just _really_ wants to please Zayn. And that might sound pathetic and worthless, but he’s never broken the law before, and having him sitting there watching on from his car is so thrilling to Louis; he just knows Zayn will love him more because of it.

The other part of him is doing it because this is yet another step up from the old Louis. He’s sick and tired of being the Louis who’s always finicky and perfect and smart and weak. He’s loosening up, doing new things, and _living_.

And the third part of him is spray painting the side of his classroom’s wall because he just purely hates the place and thinks it could rot in hell for all he cared.

Louis steps back, looking at it from a better angle. He looks over to Zayn, unsure, and Zayn sticks his head out the window with a fist in the air and yells out a ‘yeah!’ before Louis grins and runs up to the car.

"You actually did it, man." Zayn says, thrilled.

"Fuck yeah," Louis cheers, looking down at the new masterpiece and laughs. "I feel like a twelve year old."

"It’s a pretty good dick, I must say." Zayn states, looking at Louis’ job with admiring eyes.

And Louis laughs as he shakes his head, “Just drive, will you?”

Zayn cackles as he pulls out of the parking space and onto the road. He turns to Louis after a while and smiles, “Did you enjoy it?”

"What, painting a giant dick on my college?" Zayn nods quietly and Louis’ mouth breaks into a smile, "Of course I did!"

Zayn’s outbreak of laughter echoes through the car, “That’s my Louis!” He hoots, and hits the petal as he drives down the empty road.

-

"We’ll get you a better job, one that fits you." Louis says, playing with Zayn’s hand as they lie underneath the covers of Zayn’s bed.

"You’d be surprised at how well stripping pays, if people like your stuff." He replies, matter-of-factly.

Louis scoffs, “Zayn, of course they like your stuff, they’re all drunken horny gay guys and you’re the hottest piece of meat they’ve ever seen.”

Zayn smirks proudly, “Thanks, man.”

Louis laughs, that wasn’t supposed to be a compliment. But he rolls on top of Zayn, fitting in with him perfectly as he kissed upon the side of his mouth delicately.

"I’m serious," he says, "you could work at the tattoo parlour. That would be perfect for you!"

"Lou…"

"You said yourself you were great."

"And I told you the pay wasn’t enough."

Louis leans back, then sits himself up and props his elbows on top of his knees as his chin falls into his hands.

"And how much does the coffee shop pay?"

Zayn looks away for a few seconds, then looks back at Louis, unsure. “…Enough?”

And Louis can do nothing but roll his eyes, “It could do until we find you something great, like a career.”

"What do you mean? Like a… doctor or something? ‘Cause Lou, I’m really not that smart."

Louis smiles fondly at him, and crawls back down next to his side. He traces Zayn’s bare chest with the tip of his finger, and presses a kiss to his shoulder.

"We’ll find you something."

-

Yet another boring meal is set out on the table, but he can’t really complain. Because his mind is still buzzing from the night he just experienced, the fuzzy feeling is still present in his stomach and he can’t help but smile the tiniest bit wherever he goes.

But maybe he should’ve tried to hide it; because of course his mum’s picked up on it like a pile of sticks.

"You seem happy." She observes, picking at a shred of lettuce with her fork. She looks up at Louis, "Which is a reason why I wanted you home tonight."

"Yeah?" Louis asks, suddenly wiping the sense of happiness from his face. His stomach drops, but on the outside he looks calm.

"Is there somebody you’re not telling me about? I know you’re not spending all this time with Harry."

"If there was," Louis begins, then pauses as he contemplates how to phrase his sentence, "if there was a person, will you interrogate me?"

She runs her tongue across the top row of her teeth, then sets down her cutlery and clasps her hands together, “Let me ask you this first, how many times have you been out after I told you you’re grounded?”

Louis swallows, “Including uni?”

"No."

"Then, I guess-"

"What’s gotten into you, eh?" She interrupts, and Louis thinks that he didn’t even have the chance to talk; she just used that question as a prompt for her attack. "You’ve been a rebellious child for the past few weeks now, and I’m not liking it." Her voice is raised, but not in an angry way, more accusing. "There is a girl, isn’t there? You’re afraid I might scare her away, aren’t you? Hm?"

"There isn’t a girl, mum."

"Then what is it? Are you mixing with the wrong crowd?" She gasps at herself, "Louis, are you on crack."

"No, mum!" He retaliates, frowning. But then his voice calms and he couldn’t find a better opportunity than now to confess. "It’s not a _girl_ , mum, it’s a boy."

"A _boy_?" She repeats, her nose scrunched up as she says it, "A boy."

Louis nods, “Yeah.”

She thinks about it for a while, and Louis’ pretty sure she’s burnt a hole through his head from looking at him so hard.

But then she clears her throat and straightens her back, and Louis prepares for the interview.

"What’s his name?"

"Zayn."

"Age?"

"Nineteen."

"Occupation?"

And Louis freezes.

He shapes his mouth in preparation to say Zayn’s job, but stops himself suddenly. And his mum notices Louis’ mishap and she tilts her head to one side as she quirks an eyebrow, waiting.

"He’s a barista."

" _Barista_." She gives him a disgusted look and Louis feels his heart deflate. "What kind of career is that?"

"One that he enjoys doing."

"Oh, really? And what do his parents feel about that?"

"He doesn’t live with his parents."

"Of course. That’s really great." She says, folding her arms as her voice drips with sarcasm, "My son’s partner is a barista living by himself in a shack. How nice."

Louis rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated grunt, “If you just took the chance to _know_ him-“

"I don’t need the chance!" She fights, slamming her hand on the table, "He has a job worth part-time as an occupation that’s nowhere near as great as what yours is going to be! And where _is_ family, huh?"

Louis slouches lower in his seat, and his voice is so soft he may as well not be talking at all. But he knows his mum can hear him so he mutters, “You don’t know anything about him.”

She hears him, but continues to talk anyway.

"I bet they kicked him out. Honestly, nobody wants to deal with a drop kick in their house I don’t blame them-"

"Mum!" Louis shouts, which takes his mum by shock and makes her shut up.

There’s nothing more he needs to say, he just looks at her displeased and storms off into his room, shutting the door and locking it before he finally can collapse on his bed and fall asleep.

 


	14. You Belong To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE LAST CHAPTER WHAT THE HELL??? this is so sad haha i always get so attached to fics i wish they could go on forever :( but i hope you enjoy it! xx

"We could travel, you know. Take over the world."

Louis’ eyes are big when he speaks, there’s excitement in his voice, something so thrilling it captivates the room as every word he says comes out of his mouth.

And Zayn’s watching him like a groom does as he sees his bride walk down the aisle. But to be fair, the way Louis’ talking forces Zayn to smile and he can’t hide it, because he loves the way Louis speaks.

"You could open up your own tattoo place and it could be the best inking station anyone’s ever seen!"

The amount of excitement radiating off his skin is show-stopping, but Zayn has to laugh because

"Did you just call it an _inking station_?"

"Shut up, I’m discussing our future and shit." Louis bats it away, and readjusts his position like he’s upon a throne.

"So, while you’re off making millions I’m helping the business too, like promoting it and stuff, you know? And it could be like, the number one place people go to get tattoos. And we could merge it with a comic book stall!" He claps his hands together, and although Zayn thought it was impossible, Louis’ eyes get even brighter, "Yeah, we could like, have a double shop and while people are waiting to get inked by you, instead of a waiting room there’s a whole store! Oh, Zayn this is gonna be awesome!"

Louis leaps up from his chair in Zayn’s dining room and pounces on him, linking his arms around his neck and his legs around Zayn’s waist as Zayn still sits in his chair. And he can be nothing but excited, too, because his boyfriend is and the energy that’s bounding off him is impossible to not be infectious.

So Zayn smiles, presses a kiss to Louis’ forehead and brushes his hair off his face gently.

"That sounds amazing, Lou. But what about your degree?"

Louis scoffs, “Screw school. I really don’t want to be a lawyer anyway.”

And even though he proved it by complaining about going to school every single day and by vandalising the school itself, Zayn still has his doubts.

"Louis."

"What? I’m serious, it’s boring as heck, and can you imagine me being an _actual_ lawyer?"

"Yes, you’re the feistiest little guy I’ve ever seen. You’d probably scare the judges away."

Louis scrunches his face up and punches Zayn on the shoulder.

“Ow! See?”

-

The seating arrangement wasn’t stressful; it was pretty straight forward as soon as they entered the restaurant. It was Harry’s idea, taking the newly found ‘gang’ out to dinner, and at first Louis declined… because that means it’d be another outing where he’d have to witness Harry and Niall being in love, which may result in Louis throwing up all over the table.

But surprisingly, Harry kept his space and Niall kept his, they’d smile at each other and hold hands underneath the table, but that was okay because Zayn and Louis where doing the same thing.

Niall and Liam were at each end of the curved, cushioned booth. And next to Liam was Zayn, then Louis, then Harry. And it was… nice.

They’d laugh, and eat (and the food was actually acceptable for Louis’ mouth, which Harry raised an eyebrow at), and everyone was getting along.

Louis even laughed at one of Niall’s jokes at one point.

"Hey, guys," Zayn says, laying down his knife and fork, then laces his fingers in between Louis’ from under the table, "Guess what Louis wants to do."

Louis looks at him, but Zayn doesn’t look back. Niall’s the first one to turn his head, scoffing his mouth with lasagne, but it’s like as soon as Louis’ name escapes into the air his head snaps to the sound. Then once Harry and Liam give him attention, Zayn continues.

"He has dreams of us having our own tattoo business."

"You guys should totally do it!" Niall chirps, probably more excitedly than Louis had been about it.

"Yeah, I reckon." Harry says, swallowing down his food as he nods, "That’d be really cool."

"Even I’d probably get a tattoo if you guys did that." Liam pitches in, nudging Zayn a little bit.

Zayn smiles at all of them and Louis squeezes his hand. Then he looks towards Louis and gives him a satisfied glance, making Louis’ stomach flutter.

"I think we’re gonna do it," he smiles, and Louis kisses him on the mouth.

-

The sign out the front says it’s for sale, and Zayn and Louis stand there with held hands and a beaming gleam in their eye as they scan the lot in front of them.

It’s a big lot, smaller than Louis’ house but it’s also roughly double the size of Zayn’s. It’s been run-down for years, but as the sign says out the front it’s, ‘renewed, renovated, and ready for a project’. And nothing’s ever looked more endearing.

"It’s going to be challenging. You know that, right?" Zayn asks him, eyes still on the place they just had a view of.

Then his eyes glance at Louis’ who’s seeing nothing but the building in front of them, a sparkle in his eyes as he bites his lip in anticipation and excitement.

And Zayn breaks into a smile, “You’re visioning it now, aren’t you?”

And Louis nods, squeezes onto his hand, and trails him through the empty lot that’s located behind Main Street. He’s been silent throughout the whole inspection, but as soon as he enters the broken door for the second time, his mouth doesn’t stop.

"I don’t think you understand how perfect this is." He begins, then lets go of Zayn’s hand and throws his own arms up while his in the middle of the first room and spins around.

"Here can be where the clients come to book, and there’s gonna be pictures and ideas up on the walls - like we saw at the place we got our tattoos - and there’s a coffee table right there, with a few magazines but there’s a label on each one that points to this direction-"

He almost _skips_ into the right room, which is smaller than the first, but realistic enough to place furniture in.

"-which leads to this _other_ store, also run by us, remember? The bookstore, where they can browse, and buy, and it’ll actually be so cool. And over this way-"

He leads Zayn back out into the front room, then into a room that leads into the back.

"-this is where the magic happens."

He spins around again, on the pinpoint of his toes, and Zayn has to try his hardest to tear his eyes away from him.

"Just imagine," Louis begins again, "chairs - like the ones we sat on - right here," he gestures with his hands, three long chairs down the room, "and there’s enough space for you to sit, too. And all of your equipment can be here," he leaps to the far side of the room as widens out his arms, "that’s big enough, innit?"

And Zayn can’t hide his fond smile much longer. As soon as he nods at him, his lips pick up at both sides and Louis’ beaming so hard as he flops his arms around Zayn’s neck.

"We _have_ to get this." Louis whispers in his ear.

And Zayn wraps his arms around Louis’ waist, bringing him in closer, hugging him tightly.

"We will," he whispers back, and kisses him behind the ear, "I’ll make sure of it."

-

It’s days like these where it’s so nerve-racking and suspense filled that Louis just wants to explode and shatter into a million pieces.

His mum’s dressed up as though they were going out. She’s got small diamond earrings in, and her hairs up in a tight bun. She’s wearing a black, long dress, and around her neck lays a pearl chain necklace.

The table’s set complete with a red table cloth and black, soft placemats and coasters. There’s a thin, tall vase with a single flower in it, and shiny, stainless steel cutlery placed correctly on each mat.

It’s like a restaurant. And his mum has done every single detail by herself. Louis told her not to stress, (“It’s just dinner, mum.” “ _Just_ dinner? This is the night I get to determine whether or not you continue seeing this boy, Louis.”) And he thinks that maybe she’s stressing out more than he is.

Scratch that. He’s _definitely_ freaking out more than she is.

He can’t help but warn Zayn enough about everything that’s expected from him. Because Louis _really_ wants his mum to like Zayn.

So before Louis came home, he went over it briefly. But to make sure Zayn remembers, Louis couldn’t help but send him another text repeating himself, just in case.

To: Zayn  
 _Okay, so make sure you are on time. Like, even if you come fifteen minutes earlier she won’t care JUST BE ON TIME. And dress formally, not like a suit or anything but a nice shirt and jeans or something. Make sure you also compliment her as many times as possible, but don’t be a creep !_  
Also, when you meet her be really confident she’s a sucker for that.   
Okay , fuck. I’ll see you soon xx

Louis exhales the biggest sigh ever, and collapses on his bed. He’s wearing a short-sleeved grey t-shirt with a jacket over the top and dark coloured jeans. That’s formal, right? And he doesn’t have to be anyway.

Maybe he should dress in shorts and a sloppy shirt, so Zayn looks ten times better than him.

Or should he keep what he has on? So that his mum can see how good they look as a couple, and how well they fit together.

What if she doesn’t like him? No, but, of _course_ she’ll like him. It’s Zayn. He’s beyond likeable.

What if they have an argument, though? What if his mum talks badly to him and arks him up? Louis knows how quickly Zayn can get angry, and almost always he can never control it.

There’s nothing going through Louis’ mind now other than _fuckfuckfuck_ because the thought of them not getting along is enough to make him die.

_fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_

***beep beep***

"Ah!"

Louis pounces away from the sudden sound, his heart already beating faster than it should. And then it speeds right down when he realises it’s only his phone, and then he feels like a knob.

From: Zayn   
 _Yo babe it’s fine :) dont stress, be happy & I’ll see you soon. :) x_

And although that should calm him down and let him breathe, it fires him up even more because it’s fifteen minutes to six and if he’s not out the front in less than fifteen minutes; his mother isn’t going to let him enter the house.

"I hope he’s punctual." She says, coming into the room as Louis lays motionless on the bed.

She turns to Louis’ full length mirror and fixes herself up for the four hundredth time that night. And Louis begins to think _she_ wants to impress _him_.

"And he better not wear his pants so low we can see his underwear. Any sign of a waistband and he’s kicked out." She says, half talking to herself, half notifying Louis.

And Louis fake laughs until his mum flashes him a quick smile and exits the room, and Louis stops laughing suddenly and picks up his phone again, sending Zayn another quick tip.

-

5:54pm  
From: Zayn   
 _Hey babe :) I’m out the front x_

As soon as his eyes scan the text, they widen to the size of his head and his feet find the floor quicker than his mind can even cope with what’s happening. And he thinks to himself that maybe he should’ve entered the sprints in the athletics carnivals because the speed he’s running to the front door could be fast enough to be record-breaking.

"Hi," Louis manages to cough out, catching his breath.

Zayn gives him a concerned look and places a hand on Louis’ shoulder, “You alright?”

And even if Louis did catch his breath from the running, all he knows is it’s lost again. But this time it was caused by the well-dressed man in front of him.

He’s never seen him scrub up so nicely.

"Mum," Louis chokes out before thinking, then clears his throat and makes himself louder, "Mum!"

"Yes darling, I’m coming."

Louis guides Zayn into his house and shuts the door behind him, just as Louis’ mum enters the room.

"Mum, I want you to meet Zayn."

"Wow," she says, and walks forward, "I didn’t think you’d be this… clean."

And Zayn flashes an award winning smile and holds out his hand, “Hello, Mrs Tomlinson.”

She shakes it elegantly, locking judging eyes with him, then spins around swiftly and curves her finger in a way that gestures for them to follow her.

"Come," she says, walking off towards the dining table, "dinner’s almost up."

But Zayn and Louis linger there for a bit longer, and Louis doesn’t even realise Zayn’s been staring at him for a while until he speaks.

"It’s fine, see?" His hand wraps around the side of Louis’ hip, and brings him in closer.

Louis turns to him, with no expression on his face, yet a million and one emotions rattling through his brain.

"You look great." He tells him, and Zayn smiles.

"C’mon."

They enter the dining room nervously, as Louis’ mum starts serving up and filling drinks. Zayn pulls out a chair for Louis, and Louis glances his mum’s way just as she flashes Zayn an impressed look.

Louis smiles to himself as Zayn sits down, and they don’t start eating until Louis’ mum does.

"So, what’s your plan for the future, Zayn?"

"Well, Louis actually gave me the idea of setting up our own business."

”’ _Our_ ’ business?” She questions, face scrunched up, “What type of business?”

"It’s a, uh," Zayn clears his throat uncomfortably and readjusts his knife and fork, something Louis’ picked up on that gives away his nervousness. So he cuts in.

"Zayn’s a great tattooist." Louis says, and sees Zayn’s body relax as he spoke. Louis’ mum’s face changed as soon as the word ‘tattoo’ was said but Louis continues anyway, "There’s a block behind Main Road that would be perfect for creating our own tattoo parlour so I thought why not?"

"Louis, darling," she begins, and sets her cutlery down on the sides of her plate. Louis wonders if they’ll ever get a chance to actually eat while she’s talking, Louis’ listening and Zayn’s too scared and frozen to even open his mouth.

"This is very creative of you, and it’s great that you’re getting new ideas, but this will never happen."

She shrugs her shoulders and starts to eat as though what she said was final and there’s no other way around it. Louis feels Zayn’s hand take his own and when they look at each other they both nod and Louis clears his throat.

"We’ve taken all the problems and possibilities into consideration and we know it’s going to work. We’re going through with this."

On the outside she’s calm. She stops eating, takes a sip of wine and pats her red lips with the side of a napkin before putting her hands together and looking at Louis with the eyes that have scared him since he was four.

On the inside, not so calm. You can hear it in her voice and see it in those eyes that this is the worst news she’s ever heard.

"What about being a _lawyer_ , Louis? What about your _degree_?"

"I’m not interested in that career path anymore."

Zayn squeezes Louis’ hand tighter. And Louis doesn’t know if it’s out of comfort or fear but either way it’s letting him know that they’re both alive.

"Being a _tattooist_ , I’m afraid, isn’t a profession."

"Actually, it is, Ms Tomlinson."

They both look towards Zayn, slightly stunned. But he keeps his cool, and remains keeping eye contact with Louis’ intimidating, remarkably frightening mother.

"Excuse me?"

"You’ll find that any job in which you receive money is considered a profession. A job that goes without pay is called volunteer work, but for our business, that won’t be the case." Zayn states, voice firm.

Louis looks at him bewildered. And slightly turned on.

"And how much money do you plan on earning, _Zayn_?" Her voice is ridiculing, eyes piercing through Zayn as though there were lasers shooting out.

"I believe money isn’t everything. But if we’re good enough and the business is successful, our income will definitely be sustainable for the two of us."

"You seem pretty confident." She says, ending the conversation with him on a sharp note. She turns to Louis, "And you’re sure you really want to do this?"

"It was my idea, mum." Louis says, finding himself smiling, "I do."

"Then I guess that’s settled." She leans back into her chair and _smiles_ , "Good luck to you both."

-

Louis sits down, pats his thighs, turns on the television, turns off the television, stands up, walks around, sits back down… and has anticipation all through his body.

He’s walking around Zayn’s apartment like it’s his own. And it is - basically - since Louis’ been here too many times it’s hard to count. And he needs to calm down, because he’s sure that pretty soon he’s going to walk over the same length of carpet that many times it will make a permanent imprint.

So he turns on the kettle and makes himself a cup of tea to soothe himself, and to possibly just make the time go faster.

He’s almost scared to look out the window to the backyard. But he does. And it’s different.

It’s not as beautiful as it was. But it’s not as destroyed as it was, either.

All the chopped off plants have been cleaned up, the grass is level again and there are a few flowers re-growing. And Louis smiles to himself because Zayn took the effort to make it better again, just like he did with their relationship.

Louis finishes his tea at around 2:30 and his heart is pacing so fast because the auction was at 1 and Zayn should be home right now.

Louis _wanted_ to go. They had a conversation about it last night.

_”We’ll get the lot, won’t we?”_

_"It’s a possibility." Zayn says from the bathroom as Louis sits up on his bed._

_"We_ have _to get the lot, you realise. This is all we have!"_

_"Louis," Zayn walks in and sits down next to him, taking his hand, "you need to stop freaking out. If there’s a higher bidder then we’ll just have to find another place."_

_"I’m coming and I’m fighting whoever tries to beat us."_

_Zayn looks at him for a long time. Then shakes his head._

_"Yeah, I know you’ll fight them." He says with a laugh, "That’s why you’re staying here."_

_"What?"_

_"I’ll go to the auction. I’ll buy it. You stay home and be a good little boyfriend, hm?"_

_"I hate you." Louis pouts as he crosses over his arms._

_"I love you too," Zayn smiles, and kisses Louis on top of his head_.

So Louis sits back down on the couch, waiting for the sound of Zayn’s car to pull up the driveway. But when three minutes pass and there’s no sound, Louis turns on the T.V again.

He’s flicking through the channels ten hundred times; chin resting on his hand and eyes almost closing.

Until the sound of the door unlocking springs them back open again.

He turns the T.V off and swivels around towards the door. Zayn opens it and walks in, head down.

Louis waits, it doesn’t look good but he waits.

And suddenly Zayn looks at Louis, Louis looks at Zayn, and they’re smiling. Zayn’s got his arms stretched out and he’s grinning and he’s saying,

"We’ve got the lot!"

And he runs towards Louis and Louis wraps his legs around Zayn’s waist and they’re hugging each other so tightly because they’re so happy and everything’s so perfect because _yes_ , their dreams are finally coming true.

So Zayn kisses Louis. Not like the usual ‘hello’ kiss. But a deep one. One that seals them together as Zayn’s hands touch _everywhere_ and Louis starts to fall back onto the couch and Zayn follows, leaning over him.

And Louis’ got his legs in the air and Zayn’s kissing into him and Louis still cannot believe he’s with him and Zayn’s thinking the same thing because it’s _Louis_. But they’re here.

And Zayn stops kissing to grab Louis’ face with his hands, “I’m so glad I’m doing this with you.”

Louis swallows, and even after all this time he still receives butterflies from looking at those gorgeous brown eyes, and he _knows_ that this is what he wants.

"Me too."

Zayn’s lips curve up at the edges as he presses another kiss to Louis’.

Then Zayn takes Louis’ hand and stands up, cocking his head towards outside with a grin.

"C’mon, let’s go get high."

Louis leaps up and squeezes Zayn’s hand as he leads him towards the repaired van.

He has a skip in his step, because he loves the way Zayn smokes. He loves the way he can draw when he’s high and he loves how he can watch him. And this is still all so exciting to Louis, because if he had never met Zayn at a gay strip club of all places, he would still be in college. Preparing to be something he never really wanted to be in the first place and he’d be stressing out on scores and exams and shit that Louis shouldn’t be stressing out over.

So he thanks Harry in his head for dragging him out of his old life and forcing him into this new one - because as he looks at Zayn, who’s smiling at him for probably no reason at all - Louis can honestly guarantee that he’s never been this happier in his life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING!!! your comments and kudos are absolutely lovely :) xxxx
> 
> Also, if you want to read more and you love a bit of Zarry, feel free to read Vodka and Smoke [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/746316?view_full_work=true) xoxo
> 
> ♡ [tumblr](louiswmalik.tumblr.com) ♡


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